


Stardust and Freedom

by grimmlin



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Jensen Ackles, Cockles, Hurt Misha, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Starts dark but gets lighter, The first chapter is the darkest, Violence, no rape/non con actually happens in this fic, second gender confusion (alpha/omega)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:23:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 95,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmlin/pseuds/grimmlin
Summary: Set in a slightly futuristic alternate Universe, Jensen Ackles is a military captain on a diplomatic mission to develop a treaty between an Alien race known as the Baeel. He knows this mission is only for show, a treaty between the two races is unlikely considering the attitude of the Baeel Prince.Once aboard the Alien ship, Jensen discovers something that changes their mission entirely.This may be the first in a series, depending on if anyone wants to read more.





	1. Life as he knows it

“Up! You lazy useless bitch!” Prince Pellegrino screams at the blue eyed slave as he kicks him to the ground. “I don’t know why I keep you! You clumsy fool!” He continues to berate the dark haired human cowering beneath him as kicks continue to fly. "It's no wonder you're a slave! Fucking is all you're good for! Damn Omega, can't even pour a glass of water!" Pellegrino grates out, punctuating each word with another sharp kick. 

Misha curls into himself the best he can on the cold, hard floor, trying to protect his tender stomach from the brutal beating he’s receiving from his master. His eye is already nearly swollen shut and his body aches from abuse it suffered the night before. These new injuries are just icing on the cake. He knows his Master takes joy in his pain, sometimes he doesn’t even fuck Misha; the Prince happy just to break him. He curses his clumsiness for messing up again, he can't manage to do anything right anymore. He knows he deserves this, but that does not lessen the pain any. It keeps coming no matter how good Misha behaves. “Please, master. I’m sorry” The man sobs, bright blue eyes rimmed in red by tears that never fail to come “I’ll do better I swear”. The last words come out choked as the blue eyed Slave’s throat fills with wet heat. He tries his hardest to swallow the thick, crimson liquid back down but it is insistent and tenacious, forcing it’s way past tongue and teeth and cracked lips to drip heavily onto the light cream of the marble flooring. 

The kicks stop for a moment, the blonde alien Prince considering his slave from his high vantage point. He smiles in smug satisfaction to himself as the slave grovels, clutching at the Master’s heavy boots and begging for another chance. _He should beg for death._ Pellegrino enjoys this, the slave begging and pleading for a life that he has no right to. He’s enjoyed kicking this slave around for years now, but he’s outliving his usefulness. Mark is growing bored with the pleading blue eyes and groveling voice. He reaches down to grab a handful of his slave's dark brown hair and wrenches his head back, forcing Misha to look up at him. “You’re right. You will do better, or I will feed you to the dogs” The Prince bites out before delivering one final kick. He hears a sickening crunch and smiles as his slave falls still on the pale marble floor, blood pouring from his nose that took the brunt of the boot. The blood spreads sickly against the pale stone, almost steaming in the chill of the room, standing bright and hot in contrast. 

Pellegrino steps over his slave’s prone form and calls to his Captain. “Sheppard! Get in here!” He carefully shrugs out of his now wet jacket. Stupid, clumsy slave! He turns to look at himself in the mirror, his normally pale red skin is brighter in his anger and the ridges along his skull are raised further than normal, giving him the appearance of having horns. He narrows his pale blue eyes at his own reflection. The humans call his race _Devils_ , whatever that is, his serpentine tail twitches in irritation at the thought. Unlike his father, he hates the humans. 

His Captain comes skidding into the room, taking in the scene of the bloodied slave laying unconscious and the spilled water pitcher that had rolled near the Prince’s bed. “You called, sir?” Sheppard greets in his slightly lilting accent as he lowers his eyes in deference to his General, hiding his concern for the fragile human.  

“Get the slave cleaned up. I want him prepared for the Earth Emissary tonight. See if maybe he's good for something after all.” Prince Pellegrino bites out at his Captain, a scheming plot building within him. It will be a good show of power to offer a human slave for the Emissary to use for the night. His lips pull back into a wicked smile at the thought. Yes. A good show indeed. 

“Yes, your majesty” Sheppard offers a small bow while keeping his eyes on the floor as the Prince pulls a clean shirt over his head, covering the sharp armored ridges along his spine and hiding the hard, bony plates covering his chest. The plates are a sign of his royal blood, a distinguishing mark setting him apart from the rest of his people and proclaiming _him_ worthy of rule, of wielding power.  

Sheppard was born of commoners, he has no such plates and it is a great honor for a lowborn such as himself to serve the royal family so closely. He scraped and fought to survive, to rise through the ranks of those higher born than himself. He holds his position dearly, one slip up and he could easily be forced to take the human's position as slave. He’s served the Prince for their entire adult lives, but he holds no doubt that his position is tenuous.  

“See to it quickly. I want this mess cleaned up by the time I'm done meeting with the King." Prince Pellegrino waves towards the still unconscious slave and the growing pool of blood dismissively. This isn’t the first time, and it won't be the last, that he has asked his Captain to clean Misha up. It’s a wonder the slave is still alive. The Prince might have to fix that soon. He turns and steps out of the room, his booted footsteps falling heavy on the stone flooring as the door slams shut behind him. 

Sheppard steps cautiously towards the slave. He isn’t breathing properly and his face is now laying sideways in the pool of blood. The deep  and sticky crimson painting the porcelain pale skin of a slave who is never permitted to step into the sunlight. The air outside of their ship would be lethal to the human, he has no hope of escape from this pain filled life. _He’d be better off dead._   Sheppard can almost sympathize, but he doesn’t dare voice his opinion. He nudges the slave with the toe of his boot, noticing the slight flinch of pain as the human begins to regain consciousness.  

Sheppard reaches for the leash laying across the desk and then uses his boot to push the slave onto his back. Misha groans slightly at the movement but he hasn’t awakened enough to otherwise react. Sheppard sees that he’s going to have to haul Misha to the sick bay to have that nose looked at, its standing crooked on the human’s face and the flesh around his eyes is quickly darkening. That will never do if the Prince expects to offer the man for use by the Emissary tonight. 

He reaches down to connect the leash to the heavy, leather, collar around the slave’s neck as his blue eyes slowly blink open. Sheppard offers the slave a glare full of empty threats and Misha scrambles to try and get to his knees. Sheppard waits patiently, holding more understanding for the human’s frailty than his master, or perhaps simply taking less pleasure from the human’s pain. “Can you walk?” He asks the slave with raised eyebrows, not that Misha can see…he has his eyes trained to Sheppard’s boots. Misha offers a slight nod, if Sheppard hadn’t been studying the human, he would have missed it. “Up you go then” Sheppard says as he reaches down and grabs Misha’s elbow and heaves him to his feet. Ordinarily, the slave would not be permitted to walk but Sheppard doesn’t have the patience to make him crawl to the infirmary right now. 

Misha bites his cheek to avoid crying out in pain at the sudden movement. His chest feels like it’s being squeezed tight, every shallow breath brings stars to his vision and the blood dripping from his nose makes it impossible to breathe through it. He’s forced to lick the blood from his lips and try to breath through an open mouth, but even that is difficult when he keeps coughing on the blood, sending new agony through his chest. His empty stomach roils with the heavy iron tang being forced into it and his eyes water from the continued onslaught of sharp and stabbing sensations that every slight movement bring. He wobbles unsteadily when Sheppard releases his elbow, the solid floor under his feet may just as well be made out of shifting sands for all his balance is worth. It takes everything he has left to keep to his feet, the punishment that falling would bring  

The Baael shoves a ratty and dirty towel towards the slave and then nudges him towards the door. It is covered with last night’s blood and the Prince’s cum, but still Misha gratefully takes the towel and holds it to his bleeding nose. Sheppard gives orders to have the crimson stained floor cleaned to one of his subordinates as he drags Misha down the hallway towards the hospital. “The Prince wishes for you to entertain the Earth Emissary tonight. I trust you will not bring shame to your Master?” Sheppard demands of the slave. He knows how touchy the earthlings are about slavery and the ongoing war between the two galaxies. He questions the Prince’s decision to even let the slave be seen, especially with the King on board, but it is not his place to voice his opinion. 

Misha merely nods, knowing he has not been given permission to speak. A small amount of hope blooms in his chest at the thought of being used for entertainment tonight. He doubts that his master will want him presented in his current, broken, state. He risks hoping that this means that he is to be healed before servicing the earthling. Maybe even fed. Maybe the Emissary will be gentle with him. 

Sheppard yanks the human’s leash every few moments, just for good measure, before shoving him through to door to the sick bay. He knows the medic here will know just what to do to make this slave presentable and, after relaying the Prince’s orders, he stands back to wait. 

The Doctor, a Baael named Osric, hauls Misha onto the exam table and forces his head up and back, tilting his chin to each side before ordering to him hold the offered piece of gauze to his nose and to keep his head back. Misha clenches his eyes shut tightly as his face points up into the bright lights of the exam room. He doesn’t dare move, but he is relieved that it is Osric here to treat him. He’s been under Osric’s care many times before and he knows that the Baael is one of the more gentle ones. He won’t hurt Misha any more than necessary. 

“I see this one needed punishing?” Osric asks Sheppard with a crooked brow, only a hint of disgust coloring his tone at the slaves treatment. He never has seen the need to be cruel to the slaves. It just isn’t necessary most of the time, the level of cruelty leveled at Misha is appalling. 

“Yeah, he can’t seem to learn to be careful” Sheppard grumbles. “Can you handle this? I have duties to attend to” He pushes back off the wall he’d been leaning against. The sharp antiseptic smell of the infirmary has always set him on edge and the Doctor’s judgmental stare never gets any better. The sterile white walls and bright lighting do not help either. 

“Yeah, yeah. I got him” Osric mumbles as he runs his clawed hands over the slave’s bruised body, checking for more than the obvious damage. “Lay back” he gently urges Misha as he hears the soft thud of the door closing behind the other Baael. He much prefers it when the blue eyed human’s keepers aren’t standing about and staring. 

Misha fights a groan as he follows Osric’s direction. He doesn’t dare upset the one Baael who has ever shown him kindness, no matter how much pain he finds himself in he must keep quiet. He hopes that maybe Osric will sneak him some food. It’s been at least three days since he was permitted more than a mouthful or two of the flavorless gruel he’s typically fed. He tried not to drop that water pitcher, but he couldn’t quell the insistent shaking in his limbs that the need for food had brought. To make it worse, he was clumsy enough to spill it on the Prince. He should be able to do better.  

He’ll never forget the sweet and juicy piece of fruit that Osric slipped him once. It was a strange orangish yellow, soft, dense and almost slimy. The flavor was sharp, almost a hint of bitterness but bursting with a sweet juiciness that he had never tasted before. Osric said it originally came from Earth, a _human_ food. He can't quite remember what Osric had called it, something that sounded like main go... but he can't be sure. Misha hardly knows anything of Earth, but if that is what free humans eat, it must be a marvelous place. 

“Good boy” Osric pats his shoulder as the slave settles on his back. Misha keeps his eyes tightly closed, not daring to risk accidentally making eye contact with the master. He can hear Osric reaching for the salve that accelerates healing and Misha braces himself for the numbing pain that he knows will follow. The salve causes bruises to heal within minutes, but it burns like acid on his skin. He knows it will likely be injected into his nose to heal hthe broken bone there, and he squeezes his eyes tighter in dread. He tries not to allow the stray moisture still welling in his eyes from the sting in the nose to escape, but his body betrays him and he can feel the hot fluid roll from the corner of his eye and burn a path through his scratched and battered cheek. 

Osric notices how Misha goes rigid in the anticipation, and he isn’t certain that Misha even realizes that at least one of his ribs are broken from the brutal kicks delivered by the Prince. He'll need to inject the medicine deep into his chest, right next to the broken bones. He looks at the human with a sense of pity and silently wishes there was a less painful way to heal the man. He’s tried to alter the salve, but he can’t figure out what about it causes the human so much pain. He decides to give him some respite, and reaches for the syringe of sedative. “This will pinch a little, but you’ll feel better when you wake up” Is the only warning Osric gives him before plunging the needle into his arm and Misha's word spins before going dark. 

Misha dreams of being outside. Of sitting on a roof somewhere else and counting the stars. The roof doesn’t matter, it might be high or low. Clay, dirt or something harder. The details do not matter, only that it far away from here. He sees the tales of his youth spun across the galaxy, of a freedom that is never to be spoken of. A fragile and delicate concept that one so clumsy as himself can never dare to hold in his crushing grip. His dream self laughs at that idea. He is far too weak and starved to crush anything, except perhaps his own self. As a child, he dreamed of freedom. He dreamed of a kind Master who would whisk him away from this life and give him a new one. A life where he could watch the stars. The stars of his dream leave a trail of dust, like a tantalizing path that he is unable to follow. Just out of reach, yet close enough to be real. 

When Misha groggily leaves the stars behind, the first thing he notices is the lack of pain. His mind is confused for a moment, pain is his closest friend and only companion. Where did it go? The second thing he notices are the straps holding him down. He’s afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what the restraints might mean. The last thing he remembers is laying on Osric’s table for the stars came for him. Is he being punished for passing out? He slowly blinks open his eyes, crusted shut by his tears from earlier. The brightness of the room is blinding, so much more than the pinpricks of light featured in his dreams, and he guesses that the light means that he is still in the infirmary. He carefully tries to roll his head to the side, away from the lights and allows the room to come into focus.  

“Ah, there you are” He hears a familiar voice coming from his side. “You’ve been out for a couple hours. Feeling better, right?” The voice encourages as Misha slams his eyes shut again. He’s still under Osric’s care. _Thankfully_. Misha manages a shaky nod as he feels hands undoing the straps holding him. He knows better than to speak or to look. Osric has healed him many times, but Misha has never dared to even glance at the Baael. “You were thrashing around a bit, I didn’t want you to fall off and ruin all my hard work” Osric says in a voice that Misha supposes is intended to be friendly, but it only serves to make the slave’s chest constrict in despair. 

“Alright. Up. Up” Osric urges and helps Misha shakily sit up, his clawed hands scratching the human’s soft skin slightly but not causing damage. Misha flinches away instinctively, rarely is he touched without the touch causing pain. “Settle” Osric commands lightly and Misha forces himself to still, swallowing hard and forcing his breathing to slow. “Good boy” Osric whispers kindly, not wishing to cause the slave any more distress. 

Misha is made to stand before being guided into a chair along the wall. His eyes glued to the floor, which is obviously still belonging to the medical ward. Its dull gray surface mocking him, denying even a reflection through which to see the world by. Misha doesn’t move, he barely dares to breathe as he hears the wheels of a cart being dragged towards him. 

“Eat up” Osric urges as the sound of wheels comes to a stop “You’ll be needing your strength tonight”. 

Misha slowly blinks open his eyes, raising a hand to rub the crusted tears away from them. He is relieved to find that the blood has been washed away. He’s starting to remember Osric giving him a shot just before he passed out, but he doesn’t remember the pain of healing. He suspects that maybe Osric made him sleep through it, but the Doctor will never admit to such. He wants badly to voice his thanks to the Baael, but he doesn’t dare lets the words pass his lips. 

He sees the plate of food set in front of him and his mouth waters in anticipation. It looks like a piece of bread, some green leafy vegetables and a pale piece of meat. This looks like the food served to the crew of the ship, how did Osric get this for _him?_ Misha is never allowed this much of master’s food. He is rarely allowed meat, and only scraps from another’s plate when that happens. He can’t stop his head from snapping up to steal a glance at the Baael who is so kind to him. His wide, blue eyes, catch a quick glimpse of deep but pale red skin and surprised violet eyes before he catches himself and forces his gaze down once more. He is rewarded for his mistake by a quick but painless cuff to the back of his head and a firm command to eat. 

If he dared look again he would see a small smirk on the Baael’s face in amusement at his mistake. Osric understands the slave’s place, but he doesn’t see himself as a master. And he certainly doesn’t see that he needs the same subservient respect as the Prince, but it is not his place to tell Misha that. He looks on in wonder as Misha quickly shovels the food into his mouth and swallows after barely chewing. He eats like he’s terrified that Osric will change his mind and take the food away. He knows the Prince underfeeds the human, his bony rib cage and nobby spine is proof of that, so Osric takes every chance he can get to feed the man. "I gave you your shot while you were asleep, we wouldn’t want you getting pregnant." Osric says, the edge to his voice harder than he intended. He doesn't know why he's bothering to tell Misha this, the slave has no real right to the information. He supposes it might give the slave some small measure of comfort, one less thing to worry about. It isn’t as if the Prince could be bothered to keep track of Misha’s shots.  

Misha eats every last crumb off the plate, not willing to waste anything since he doesn’t know when he might be permitted to eat again. Despite his relief, he doesn't flinch or pause in his hurried eating at the news about his shot. He’s never known another human who wasn’t Omega like him, or female. A pregnant slave is a dead slave. The plate is quickly whisked away once the food is cleared from it and Misha is given a command to kneel on the bench in the corner and present himself. 

Misha internally cringes, but moves towards the bench on his hands and knees regardless. Osric has never chosen to use him before, but after everything he’s done for Misha, he doesn’t dare risk showing any sign of doubt of discomfort. He climbs onto the bench, bending over the raised portion and letting his torso drape over the other side. He spreads his knees as wide as he can with his ass in the air to allow Osric access. He clenches his eyes shut tightly, not wanting to see any of this. 

“The Prince is loaning you out tonight, the Emissary is due on board in one hour and you are to be waiting in his quarters when he arrives. Now, I have no desire to see you back here in the morning so I’m going to make certain you’re ready for him. Hold still” Osric explains as Misha hears gloves snapping onto Osric’s hands and the sharp click of a bottle opening.  

Misha takes a deep breath to prepare for the intrusion that he knows is coming, but he is grateful that Osric at least seems to be planning on taking steps to ease the way. “This will loosen you up a little, prevent any tearing. Hopefully lessen any pain” Osric continues to explain as he strokes a cold, wet finger over Misha’s opening. The liquid tingles slightly, but it is not painful so Misha relaxes slightly. He trusts that Osric will be more gentle with him than his Master. 

Misha braces himself for a pain that doesn't come. The sensation of Osric's touch fades the longer the Baael massages his entrance. He feels a slight sense of pressure as Osric pushes with his finger, slowly breaching Misha but no pain follows. Misha was certain it would hurt, he was fucked raw and bloody by the Prince the night before but now he thinks Osric must have healed him there to while he was unconscious. This doesn't hurt, it almost feels good. Relaxing at least. Misha sends waves of thankful thoughts towards the Baael even though he knows Osric won't feel them, but he doesn't dare give them voice.  

Osric slowly pushes his finger in and out of Misha and he feels the man relax around his intruding digit. He pulls out, adding another glop of the numbing gel to his fingers before reinserting two this time. He makes sure to coat the walls of Misha's channel well with the gel. It will remain slick even when the numbing sensation wears off, it should help the man later. He scissors his fingers before adding a third, determined to stretch and relax Misha to ease the way later. He knows that the human cock is often thicker than their own, although not as long. He doesn't want this slave to encounter any more pain than necessary. He purposely avoids the little pleasure nub that he knows is buried within the human's channel. It's existence is further proof that omega humans are weak and wanton hedonists, not good for anything but fucking. Just because he can sympathize with the human, doesn't mean he wants to reward him. 

He withdraws his fingers once he feels the man is stretched enough and quickly wipes away the extra gel. "You have 15 minutes to get to the Emissary's quarters and present yourself. Go." He says, affecting the coldness that is expected when handling slaves and gives Misha's ass a light swat to signal that he's done with the man. 

Misha quickly scrambles to turn around and kneel before the alien. He bends and presses a quick kiss to Osric's boot, the only thanks he dares to give the Baael before hurriedly crawling towards the door. It is flung open just before he gets to it, a quick reflex saving him from being bashed in the face and ruining Osric’s work. A leash is quickly clipped to his collar by someone in a common pair of boots. Not Captain Sheppard. Misha doesn't dare look up as he's dragged away. 

He crawls as quickly as he can but still fails to keep up as his guard steps quickly down the wooden hallway. He ends up being half dragged down the corridor towards an unfamiliar part of the ship, he struggles to breath around the tightness constricting his throat and his knees and hands gaining new scuffs and bruises. Usually, whoever is moving him slows their pace to accommodate the crawling man, but the slave has no such luck today. The Baael dragging him stops abruptly in front of a door Misha has never seen before. The guard quickly unlocks it and shoves Misha inside to wait without a word. 

Misha knows what is expected of him and be breathes a sigh of relief at having been left alone. Alone time is rare and he savors every moment of it. It is as close to freedom as he's ever had. He takes the opportunity to look around the room, straightening his head and taking in the richly decorated space. The furniture is not as fine as what is in the Prince's quarters, but it is still nicer than most of the other rooms he's been in. He is curious about this Emissary from Earth. Will he be a human? Misha hasn't seen another human in years, since he was sold to Prince Pellegrino. Even then the other humans were like him, omega slaves. Will a free human be different? Will he be an Alpha? 

He takes a quick moment to stand and stretch. He knows the Emissary is scheduled to arrive shortly, but he doesn't know how long he will have to wait on his knees before he is permitted to move. A large part of him wants to snoop around the room, but the clock on the wall tells him that time is running short. A kindly old slave who took care of him as a child taught him how to read and tell time, two skills that have proven invaluable to him despite his masters not realizing what he can do.  

Misha briefly considers stroking himself to hardness, to better appeal to the master, but decides against it. He wasn't not given instruction to do that and there are too many unknowns in this situation to take the chance. He lowers himself back to his knees, positioning himself on the tightly woven rug, facing the door. It's swirling pattern is unlike anything he's seen so far during his years with the Baael race. He's going to take what little comfort he can get, and right now that is the slight padding the rug offers. He spreads his knees wide but presses his ankles together. His hands come to rest, palm up, over his knees. He’ll wait to bow his head until he hears a lock turning in the door. 

He takes the time to let his mind wander, these brief periods of waiting for something to happen are the only time he has to himself, to think about himself and dream about a different life. He doesn’t remember ever not being a slave, as a child he was made to serve drinks and snacks in the brothel he grew up in. When customers started showing an interest in him, his role changed. Sex has always been his life, he’s never dared to hope for any different and he looks back on his time in the brothel with fondness. At least there, customers weren’t allowed to injure him and he was always fed. He was used for physical pleasure, sometimes he was even allowed some for himself. His stomach protests at the thought of food, a low gurgle echoes through the room. He ate the food Osric offered too quickly, and it was much richer than he is accustomed to. He breaks his pose to give his stomach a quick rub, resting the flat of his palm against the gentle inward curve just above his naval, willing it to calm before the Emissary arrives. 

He hopes the Earthling is agreeable, or at least not cruel. He’s nearly giddy with excitement at the thought of being away from the Prince, even for a night and he can't help the smile that brings. Every night the Prince rapes and beats him, never a kind touch or kind word. Only threats and pain. Sometime he leaves Misha tied for hours, long after his hands of legs fall asleep, before the nightly beating. The Prince takes great pleasure in Misha’s screams and spilling the man’s blood. Misha can’t complain, he wouldn’t dare. To complain would mean death. Whatever the Emissary chooses to do with him, Misha is sure it will be better than his nights with Prince Pellegrino. 

The simple rattle of the lock mechanism disengaging has Misha quickly dropping his head, bowing forward slightly and curving his hips back. His temporary master is here and his heart pounds in anticipation as the door slowly pushes open. Misha glues his eyes to the floor, and black patent leather boots are the only thing he sees of the Emissary.  

"Shit" The man belonging to the boots bites out in a rough and low voice as he drops a heavy bag to the floor at his side, just in front of Misha. The slave jumps slightly in surprise at the resounding thud of the bag hitting the floor and Misha ducks his head further, shame coursing through him at already disappointing this new master.


	2. Surprise?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha is surprised and confused by the Emissiary, and Jensen doesn't fare any better.

“No no no no no” Jensen starts muttering, his boots heavy on the hard floor as he stumbles backwards, away from the slave at his feet. There must be some misunderstanding! He can’t possibly be expected to use a slave! A human slave at that!

  
The slave doesn’t move beyond tucking his chin deeper into his pale chest. Jensen notices a slight tremor pass through the man but he is perfectly still beyond that. “There must be some mistake. I don’t want…” Jensen says sharply, he instantly feels guilty for his tone by the way the slave cringes. He makes to turn and go sort out this mess, but the slave falls forward, planting his forehead on the toe of Jensen’s boot.  
“Please, please sir” Misha mutters, obvious fear coloring the slave’s tone as he clutches at the Emissary’s boots.

  
Jensen freezes at the slave’s muttering. Anger coursing through him. He would be willing to bet that this is the Prince’s doing. It would be just like these Baaels to try and place him in an unwinnable situation. These talks of becoming allies are tense enough already, and the Prince lacks the diplomatic grace of his father. Jensen either accepts the slave, sparing the man punishment; and looks weak in front of his enemies. Or he rejects the slave to stand by human principles, but possibly sentences the slave to death. His jaw clicks as he clenches it, seething in anger at the choices in front of him and can’t help the low growl that escapes from his chest. The slave scrambles back in fear at the sudden noise before bowing deeply, pressing his forehead to the plush rug underneath him and making himself as small as possible.

  
Jensen stares blankly at the man cowering before him, taking note of the prominent bones along the naked man’s spine, sticking up worse than a starving stray dog. His shaggy, chestnut colored hair is slightly longer than Jensen’s own and his long slender fingers press firmly at the sides of his head. The green remnants of bruises on his alabaster skin peek out along the side of his clearly defined ribs and Jensen does not miss the tremble passing through the man despite his attempts to be still. It is clear that he is poorly treated and terrified.

  
“Look at me” Jensen demands of the terrified slave. His voice sounding harsh, even to his own ears and he immediately regrets his tone. The slave renews his efforts at trembling, vibrating like a leaf as he lifts his head from the carpet a scant inch.

  
“Please sir, I’ve been instructed to serve you this evening. I apologize for any disappointment I may have caused” Misha mumbles out, his voice barely a whisper in the near silence of the room. He is such a failure, he can’t even present himself properly and he’s made his temporary master angry with him already. Misha swallows hard, gulping around the lump in his throat and waits for his punishment. Maybe this master will only beat him, maybe he doesn’t know about the Prince’s threat of the dogs.

  
“Look at me” Jensen tries again, a little more gently, gazing down at the dark haired slave’s bent head. He’s starting to piece together a plan, but he needs to know more. He needs the man’s cooperation. He glances around the room, forcing himself to be patient with the kneeling man, and looks for anything that might be used to spy on him. He would not put it past these Baaels to try and set a trap for him.

  
The slave tucks his head further, and it dawns on Jensen that the man is probably trained not to look at his masters. He’s heard that slave owners sometimes do that. He bends down, reaching for the man and gently grasps his chin. To his credit, and Jensen’s surprise, the slave doesn’t flinch away from the touch. He slowly tilts the man’s chin upwards, forcing him to look at him.

  
Jensen is struck speechless by the intensity of the man’s blue eyes. The color can only be compared to a pale sapphire, too gentle and kind to be considered icy despite the obvious abuse he’s suffered. Jensen studies the slave’s face for a moment, noticing the man’s strong jaw and wide chin. A pang of shame courses through Jensen when he realizes that he’s considering how soft those plush lips must be and he turns his head. The slave’s mouth is slightly open, jaw still held within Jensen’s grasp and he closes his brilliant blue eyes and swallows roughly.

  
This is the first free human Misha has ever seen, and the man is breathtaking. He knows that he should avert his gaze, making eye contact with masters is forbidden, but he finds himself paralyzed within the man’s emerald gaze. Misha is accustomed to seeing the reddish and slightly scaly skin of the Baaels who hold his leash; and before the Baaels, there were creatures of all colors and sizes, but never human. Never someone who looks so much like him. The man’s bright green eyes seem to stare through him, neither man moving as they observe each other. Misha sees freckles for the first time, dotting densely across the man's nose and scattering across his cheeks like the dust from the stars in his dreams. The slight red tint of the other man’s scruff clinging to his chiseled jaw has him staring in amazement. No hair grows on Misha’s face like that, this Master must be an Alpha.

  
Misha’s training fails him. He doesn’t know what to do and a new wave of panic rises in him just as the Emissary releases the hold on his chin and turns away, breathing heavily. The man's hand may be gone, but the heat from his touch lingers as if it is still there. Misha has already broken too many rules and displeased his master, he doesn’t know what to do next. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He fixes his gaze down, intently studying the golden, swirling pattern of the rug underneath his knees.

  
“What is your name?” The Emissary, voice pained as he asks slowly like he’s talking to a scared animal, Misha can only assume that the man is talking to him. He glances up at the man’s back and then quickly around the room, heart hammering in his chest. He’s been asked a direct question, he must answer, but words fail him as he opens his mouth to speak. His mouth may as well be filled sand for how dry it's suddenly gone.

  
Jensen turns when he hears a high pitched squeak come from the slave behind him and he fights a smirk. Figures. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to know your name. My name is Jensen” The Emissary calmly says to Misha, carefully measuring his tone and holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture before placing an open hand on his own chest. He feels like he’s talking to a scared puppy. He wishes Jared were here right now, he would know what to do. Jensen has never been good at this diplomatic song and dance, he is a much better soldier.

  
Jensen has doubts that the Baael King even knows this human slave is on board his son’s ship. Prince Mark Pellegrino has a nasty reputation for cruelty and a known penchant for slaves. From what Jensen knows, his father is much more level headed and eager to form a treaty between the two races to defeat their common enemy. Sadly they do not even know what that enemy is, only that is slowly spreading throughout the Andromeda Galaxy, leaving nothing but a blackened wasteland in its wake. They call it the Darkness, but it spreads like a disease. No obvious catalyst or beings behind it, only destruction.

  
Misha glances back up at the man, finding it easier to make eye contact this second time and he blinks awkwardly. No one has ever talked to him like that, like he’s a person. And a master has never directly given his name before, like he expects Misha to call him anything other than Sir or Master. Master, Jensen, is looking at him earnestly though, a deep burning in his eyes that falls somewhere between anger and pity. Misha is confused.

  
“What is your name?” Jensen asks again softly, trying not to be amused by the puzzled expression and the way the other man’s head cocks to the side slightly. Just like a puppy. A cute little…no! He can’t let his mind go there. Despite himself, a smile tries to make his lip twitch upward towards the other man.

  
“Misha” The slave squeaks out, finding his voice slightly better this time but he ducks his head in shame anyways. This Jensen will surely find him useless now, he can’t even manage to speak when ordered.

  
“Misha” Jensen tries out the name on his tongue. It’s strange, but it somehow suits the floppy haired man. “Stand up?” He requests, hoping that what he is about to do isn’t too outrageous for the slave. He doesn’t want to cause the man any more distress than he already has. He sees Misha nod slightly and steps around the man towards the bed. Misha quickly gets to his feet and turns to face Jensen, hands still and resting along the outsides of his thighs. He makes no move to cover his nudity as he stares at the floor.

  
Jensen glances back at Misha as he pulls a blanket off of the bed. His soft, green eyes travel over the other man’s body and he has to swallow hard around the lump forming in his throat. Misha is beautiful, despite his half starved and too pale appearance. His thin frame is well built, and Jensen can easily imagine how graceful and strong the man might be in better circumstances. Strangely; he has no hair other than what's on the top of his head, but he wouldn't past his captors to groom him. Jensen shakes his head and forces his eyes away from the man standing in front of him, he should not be noticing these things. He quickly shakes the blanket out and steps closer to Misha, standing in the other man’s space.

  
Misha makes no effort to move. He will gladly let Jensen do as he pleases with him, in hopes that he may be forgiven for his earlier mistakes. Jensen spreads the blanket out wide in front of him, and Misha cocks his head in confusion. What is this strange master doing? Almost quicker than Misha can follow, Jensen flips the blanket and pulls it around Misha’s back. He draws it up over Misha’s shoulders and pulls it closed around his front, cocooning him within the blanket.

  
“That’s better” Jensen says with a nod. “Please, sit” He motions towards the bed and Misha’s confusion grows. Masters never swaddle him and then ask him to sit. It just isn’t done and Misha doesn’t understand. But, he was given an order…even if it was strangely polite, like a request. He does as he’s told and sits gingerly at the edge of the bed, waiting for the next command while staring down at the floor. He pulls the blanket tighter around him, since that seems to be what Jensen wants, but if offers him no real comfort.

  
Jensen paces in front of the bed, his boots sounding hard and heavy despite the soft rug underfoot, as he tries to decide what to do. “So, uh, you’re a slave?” Smooth, Jensen. Really smooth he thinks to himself as he inwardly cringes. Did he seriously just say that? It takes everything he has to not bury his face in his hands even as his face heats in embarrassment. He stops his pacing and turns to face the man on the bed. Jensen didn’t think it possible, but the man manages to make himself look even smaller as he draws his shoulders forward and slumps slightly. “Yeah, stupid question” Jensen mutters as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaving a few feet between himself and the slave.

  
“Do I displease you, master?” The darker haired man mutters, turning his head towards Jensen but not raising his eyes.

  
“What? No! You’re beautiful….no. Shit. Sorry. I just…” Jensen stumbles over his words in a rush, before silencing himself by scrubbing his hands over his face and letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. How is he going to handle this? Ugh! “Call me Jensen, please” He says as he gets to his feet. Too much nervous energy for him to sit right now. Between nearing the end of his tour, looking at retirement without a clue as to what he’s going to do and being sent on this farce of a diplomatic mission…he is caught way too off balance to handle a slave situation right now. Protocol says this man is a prisoner of war, not a slave and steps need to be taken to secure his release. But how is he supposed to do that! Jared would handle this so much better! Hell, even Chad could probably handle this better….and that’s saying something.

  
“Jensen” Misha mutters, trying out the name and causing Jensen to whip back around to face him. He notices the man looking up at him through lowered lashes, a small flash of blue nearly hidden by the shadows covering his face. He has his plush lips pressed together in a wide line, confusion etched on his fine features. Jensen has no idea how to comfort him, or even if he should.

  
“Look, uh, my people don’t use slaves like other races. I’m not going to touch you, but I won’t send you away if you’d like to stay. Have at least a night in peace?” Jensen asks hopefully, chewing on his lower lip. It’s not appropriate, but he can’t stand the thought of sending Misha away to possibly be beaten…or worse, for being rejected. Keeping him here will buy him some time to figure out a plan, talk to his Lieutenant. Now he not only has to lay the beginning of a treaty, but also get this man out of here. Shit.

  
Misha snaps his head up to look straight at Jensen at his question. No, not at. Through. His blue eyes brighten in confusion, hope, wonder…a mix of emotions so complex that Jensen can’t begin to follow them as they race through that penetrating gaze. The rest of the world is forgotten as Jensen gazes into those watery depths of Misha’s eyes and for a moment, only the two of them exist. Jensen knows, without a doubt, that Misha is not a weak or foolish man. The stare he’s receiving is born of strength and perseverance, a scrutiny unique to those who have been though hell and lived to tell about it. It feels as if minutes pass, but it is really only seconds until Misha looks back down and offers a small nod. If this master wants him to stay, but not to use him…who is Misha to object? He gently bites his lower lip, shielded from Jensen’s gaze, and the beginnings a smile cause one corner of his mouth to creep up. He thinks he might like humans.

  
Jensen continues his pacing, waiting for Christian to arrive. His Lieutenant should be here any moment, he was to meet with Jensen once he was settled in his quarters. Jensen hopes that Chris didn’t meet with the same surprise he had. Securing the release of one prisoner is going to be enough of a challenge, two might be impossible.

  
Misha covertly watches Jensen pace and fidget like a caged tiger, he takes catalogue of the man’s strong and wide shoulders, the slight bow to his legs and his nearly, but not quite, dark blonde hair. It seems that the man is naturally pale, Misha remembers hearing somewhere about freckles being common on pale humans. He himself doesn’t have freckles, even though he’s more pale than Jensen, so he never really understood what that meant. Jensen has constellations of freckles, across the bridge of his sharply pointed nose and over his cheeks, but they blend in so well that Misha can't really see them from here. Misha can see some on the backs of his hands and imagines the rest of his body matches. There is so much Misha is curious about, but he’s afraid to push his good fortune with this temporary master.

  
A knock on the door has both men jumping to action. Misha scrambles to throw the blanket off and fall to his knees beside the bed. He’s grateful that he’s on the far side of the room and mostly hidden from view of the door that Jensen is rushing to open. Misha looks down, half on the rug and half on the cold stone of the floor, trying not to look at whomever Jensen is talking to. Just because Jensen has been kind, does not mean that Misha has any right to eavesdrop. He is just grateful that he doesn’t recognize the voice. It sounds low and gravel rough. Clearly human, as opposed to the high and breathy hiss of the Baael’s speech. Misha lets his shoulders slump slightly in relief, he hopes that this new human is like Jensen.

  
Jensen invites the other man into the room and the stranger falls suddenly silent as he takes in the head and shoulders of the kneeling man behind the bed. “Uhhh, Ackles?” The man nearly stutters, a heavy and unfamiliar twang to his voice. His footfalls are heavier than Jensen’s as he steps closer Misha and the man fights to stay still. Ackles?

  
“Yeah” Jensen says shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while gesturing towards Misha with the other. “Christian, this is Misha. He’s a slave of the Prince’s” Jensen can feel redness creeping up his face and into the tips of his ears. Shame, anger, embarrassment all running through him at once, making him flush hot. “I was hoping you’d have an idea of how to deal with this” Jensen gestures towards Chris, hoping his second in command would understand.

  
Misha flinches, his eyes still trained to the floor. He doesn’t dare look up at the new master in the room. Jensen allows him to look, but that does not mean this other man will allow the same. Maybe Jensen is just nice because he’s never had a slave?

  
Jensen notices Misha go tense and rushes to reach for the blanket again. He drapes it over the still kneeling man, crouching in front of him and pulling the blanket snug around his shoulders. “It’s alright man. This is Christian Kane, he’s my second in command and good friend. You’re safe with us” Jensen rubs a hand over Misha’s blanket clad arm without realizing. Misha leans in to the comforting gesture slightly, savoring the gentle touch and Jensen finds it hard to pull away.

  
“Relax son, we don’t mean ya any harm” Christian drawls, causing Misha to risk a glance up at the strange sounding man. He’s shorter than Jensen, which means he’s shorter than Misha. His deep brown hair hangs nearly to his shoulders, he’s dressed the same as Jensen…except for a big, wide brimmed hat and his eyes might be even bluer than Misha’s own. They’re startling against the man’s deeply tanned skin and dark hair. “You can call me Chris” He smiles and reaches up to tip his hat when he see’s Misha is looking up at him.

  
“Come on. Up.” Jensen heaves as he hefts Misha to his feet by his elbow, still not breaking contact. The man is heavier than he looks. He notices Misha is standing taller now and he can finally see the man is nearly the same height as himself, only shorter by maybe an inch once he’s out of his boots.

  
“What…what do you want with me?…if, if you don’t…” Misha finds the courage to ask, before blushing and hanging his head again. His voice is so quiet, rough and squeaky from disuse, that Jensen can barely hear him, only inches from the man and Christian has no hope of understanding his mumbles. Misha swallows back his anxiety, tries to be brave, but his heart is racing and he can’t stop the tremble in his hands or the weakness in his knees.

  
“For now we want to you wait here. We can’t make you any promises, other than we will not hurt you, or rape you” Jensen explains, pained that he can’t give Misha a real answer. He wants to tell the man that they’re not leaving without him, that they’re going to free him…but he doesn’t dare. Not until they speak with the Prince. “We have business with the Prince, we will be here at least a night. I’m going to try to keep you as long as I can” Jensen does offer that much comfort as he carefully reaches up to brush a finger along Misha’s jawline. He can’t help but stare at the other man’s fragile beauty. He would never imagine abusing any man like this, slavery makes his blood boil and he could never take advantage of someone like that. It goes against everything his Mamma taught him. He shakes his head as he pulls away as if he’s been bitten. He can’t let his mind go there. He can’t get emotionally attached. Things might have to get worse for the man before they can get better.

  
“We should get moving Jen” Chris reminds his Captain. They have a schedule to keep to, although he will readily admit that the appearance of Misha throws a wrench into things. Jensen gave some warning at the door, but it was far from enough to prepare him for being confronted with such an ugly practice. They both knew the Baaels kept slaves, but they weren’t prepared for there to be human slaves.

  
“Right. You stay here Misha, do….whatever you want” Jensen mumbles, still half embarrassed that he was practically petting the man a moment ago. He should not be letting himself look at Misha like a pet! He’s a helpless victim. Yes, that is why Jensen feels this strange urge to comfort and protect the man. Jensen shakes his head, trying to get himself back in the headspace he belongs in, and turns to follow Christian. He risks one glance back into the room, and he’s met with the soul piercing gaze of those unearthly blue eyes before shutting the door behind him. Once he’s out of the room and away from the slave; Misha, he reminds himself, His name is Misha, he lets out a deep breath before silently following Christian back to his room. It is much smaller and less grand than Jensen’s own, the perceived difference in their rank. Jensen smirks to himself, if they only know how little difference there really was between Chris and himself…the Baaels would probably be insulted.

  
The Council from Earth chose Jensen for this mission because they thought it was a lost cause to begin with, but had to send someone to save face. They didn’t send Jared because he was too good for this waste of time, his skills were needed elsewhere. Jensen was the B team, hell…maybe even the C team. He didn’t want to take this on, but orders are orders. He’s so close to retiring that he didn’t want to screw things up for himself by refusing. This was not supposed to be complicated. He lets out a heavy breath and scrubs his hands across face once the door is shut safely behind them.

  
“So much for a simple ‘Thanks but no thanks’ meeting” Christian grumbles, his drawl getting thicker in his irritation. “Wanna call Padalecki?” He suggests. Jared, Jensen’s best friend and real diplomat, would be able to give them advice.

  
“Yeah, probably should. Fuck” Jensen shakes his head, one hand still covering most of his face as he reaches for his com device and pushes the button for Jared.

  
10 Minutes later and they have a plan. Sort of. It all hinges on being able to meet with the King. Jared’s intel said the King is visiting his son here on Perdition. Jensen hasn’t seen any signs of such a visit, but he hopes that Jared is right. Jensen and Christian each take a deep breath and steel themselves with a sense of determination. This diplomatic mission might have started as a trip just to keep up appearances, but now they feel like they actually have a chance to make a difference.


	3. The Difference between Kings and Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen meets with Baael royalty and Christian meets someone with unexpected information.

“Father, the Emissary agreed to meet with me. You don’t need to stay for this” Prince Mark Pellegrino tries to impress upon his father while pacing in his command center, clenching his clawed hands into fists in his frustration. The Prince has been allowed great independence in commanding his own fleet within the Baael’s Empire. The lax oversight of the King has allowed the Prince to make some…changes. Changes that he knows his father might not approve of. Having him here might destroy the Prince's plans.

  
“Nonsense Mark. I’m here, I want to observe my heir in action. I’m proud of what you’ve built here” King Robert Benedict says, carefully stirring his cup of tea. His son was adopted into the royal family as an infant and raised as his own. Mark has always had a temper, and the King had hoped that the responsibility of command might help him learn to control his rage. Sitting here, on his son’s ship, has given him the impression that his son has accomplished a great deal but also appears to be hiding something.

  
The Prince looks nothing like his adoptive father, although the fact that he is adopted is known to very few people. Mark was born of the King’s cousin and bore the rare plating typical only on those of direct royal birth. His mother didn’t survive his birth, and when his father was killed in battle, the widowed King took in the young Baael and made him his heir. He watches his son pace, letting the restlessness the young man has always struggled with get the better of him.

“Sit, my Son. You’re spoiling my tea” The elder Baael gestures towards the seat across the small and well worn table. It has been nearly three years since the King has set foot on his son’s ship, and he won’t have the Prince shoo him away so quickly. King Rob continues to stir his tea, front to back in a rhythm that he knows Mark has never had the patience for. The silent swirling of the pale tannic liquid, never spilling over the edge or escaping its confines. Never offering to. The gentle stir enough to get what the King wants out of it without causing the tepid liquid any undue stress.

  
Prince Mark sits with a huff, glaring at his cup as if the small porcelain vessel somehow managed to offend him gravely. He grudgingly snatches his spoon from the table and reaches for the cubes of sugar. He quickly drops two in with a splash, ignoring the fact that he’s let his tea get too cool to properly dissolve the fine grains of the sugar. Clink, clink, clink is the only sound in the room as Mark violently stirs his tea in wide circles. His glare intensifies as the tea sloshes over the edges, leaving grainy puddles of wetness on the wood of the table. King Rob sighs, shaking his head as he reaches across to lay his napkin over the spilled tea, covering the results of his son’s impatience.

  
They sit in silence, Mark’s violent clanking of his spoon inside of the delicate cup finally ceases when he realizes that his tea is going to be a gritty mess that no amount of stirring can fix. He refuses to give in to his father’s knowing smile and chokes down the cold, sweet sludge without a word. He has never understood why the old man is so insistent on holding afternoon tea. It is an antiquated and dull tradition that serves no purpose.

  
Their silence is short lived as Captain Sheppard cautiously steps into the room, clearing his throat. “Pardon the intrusion your majesties, the Earth Emissary and his Lieutenant are here to see you” He softly delivers in his accented cadence displaying his lower status, bowing to Prince Mark before turning and dipping his chin towards his King.

  
“Very well, show them in” King Rob offers, not sparing his son a glance as he nods towards Sheppard.

  
“Yes, my lord” Sheppard dips low towards the King and then turns and does the same towards Prince Pellegrino before ducking out of the room.   
“Introducing Emissary Ackles and Lieutenant Kane my lords” Sheppard returns with two humans stepping closely behind him, standing shoulder to shoulder in a united front. “Emissary, Lieutenant, I present Prince Pellegrino and King Benedict” Sheppard gives a dramatically sweeping bow before turning and stepping out of the room. He knows better than to wait for the Prince to dismiss him.  
\-----  
“I was expecting Emissary Padalucki” Prince Pellegrino says with ill concealed displeasure towards the men standing before him. He prepared his strategy based on what he knew of the young earthling. The man standing in front of him now appears to be more soldier than diplomat. This could be, problematic.

  
Jensen stands tall, shoulders squared and gaze unwavering as he evaluates the Prince, withholding his wince at the slight mispronunciation of his friend’s name. He is still unaccustomed to the intimidating appearance of the Baael race, as this is the first time he’s been in such close contact with them. The Prince’s serpentine tail twitches in cat like irritation behind him and the bony, horn like ridges on his head seem to be rising in challenge. Just perfect. “I apologize for the mix-up” Jensen begins, summoning the entirety of his self restraint, “Emissary _Padalecki_ is presently on a mission near the far edge of Canis Major. Given the rapid planning of this meeting, it was decided that I would be in attendance” Jensen continues politely but coldly, stressing the correct saying of the name. He knows exactly what he is doing by not addressing the Prince by his royal titles.

  
“It is an unexpected pleasure to meet you, King Benedict” Jensen turns his charm towards the King, offering the smallest of bows. He is relieved that the King is in fact, here, and interested in meeting with him. “I must thank you for your hospitality, I did not expect to be offered a companion to better acquaint me with your customs” Jensen turns back to the Prince, offering a small and patently fake smile to the other man. He can almost feel the King bristle in curiosity at the comment, but he chooses not to look back towards the elder statesman.

  
“You are most welcome” Prince Pellegrino says with all of the grace of a serpent as he offers Jensen a threatening smile. “Please, have a seat” He gestures towards the two empty chairs along the edge of the small table. Both the Prince and King retake their seats at the head and foot.  
“Can we offer you some tea?” King Benedict speaks up as they all take their seats. “No sense in digging into politics before tea, that would be uncivilized” He continues as if tea is the most important thing in the universe. Prince Pellegrino has to bite his tongue to keep from ranting about the idea of more tea.

  
Almost as if on cue, fresh tea is brought in and placed gently on the table along with an assortment of pastries…some familiar to the humans and some not. Jensen takes note of the very earth like china cups and saucers, despite the fact that the tea contained within smells nothing like what he is accustomed to. The aroma wafting from the pot is spicy, almost like cinnamon and pine blended together. He allows the servant to pour his cup before the pot is placed in front of Chris. His Lieutenant is made to pour his own. The assortment of pastries is vast, he sees what appears to be simple scones and cream cheese Danish, as well as some decidedly unfamiliar ones of varying shape and color. A cluster of diamond shaped and nearly neon orange biscuit like ones immediately catches his eye and he feels a tingle of recognition in the back of his mind. He decides to wait to take his cue from the King before selecting one, if he has one at all.

  
He instead opts for carefully picking up a single sugar cube with the delicate tongs provided and small splash of cream. He feels the King’s eyes on him as he gently stirs the tea, front to back, in his mug without looking up. Just as his Mamma taught him. It seems they are waiting for him to finish before the meeting begins. Despite his years as a soldier, Jensen was raised to be a proper gentleman so he doesn’t keep them waiting. He gently sets his spoon at the edge of the saucer and waits to take a sip as the king prepares his own tea, much in the same fashion. Jensen smiles smugly to himself, feeling like he passed some sort of test as the king sets his spoon down and gives him a small nod.

  
Chris follows Jensen’s example in preparing his own tea, but he waits until both the King and the Prince are finished before reaching for a sugar cube for himself.

  
“Forgive me if I am mistaken, but are you not a soldier, Emissary?” King Benedict asks softly, his voice taking the on the texture of crushed velvet and nearly covering up the slight hissing quality to the Baael’s speech.

  
“I was, before being recruited for Diplomatic missions.” Jensen says carefully as he feels Christian tensing beside him. No need to tell them the real reason.

  
The Prince barely holds back a snort at Jensen’s admission, clearly thinking him a simple soldier. “Then you must have been exposed to many different cultures as your time as a foot soldier” Prince Pellegrino grates out, a distinct and derisive hiss to his voice.

  
“That I have. I have seen both the best, and the worst, of many cultures” Jensen says flatly towards the Prince, ignoring the jab at his status. Jensen knows he must be cautious and lay just enough information to intrigue the King without fully insulting the Prince. The Prince’s horns hike up slightly higher at Jensen’s words. Maybe that was a little too much.

  
“So tell me, Emissary” King Benedict begins “What, in your opinion, is the most appealing practice you’ve come across?” The King narrows his eyes slightly but leans forward. If Jensen didn’t know better, he would swear the King is talking about something completely different.

  
Jensen clears his throat slightly and dabs his lips with his napkin, buying himself a few seconds before answering. “I do admire the loyalty exhibited by the Anglicans. It seems their leaders are as loyal to their people, as their people are to them. I believe their society is so peaceful and cohesive because of that. They use trust, not fear” Jensen smiles gently towards the King, hoping his answer was acceptable. He senses the Prince bristle beside him and he can almost feel the man’s glare as Christian shifts uncomfortably beside him. He knows his friend is having a very hard time keeping quiet, but he knows it is not his place to give his opinion.

  
“I agree, trust and loyalty are very important things” King Benedict nods his agreement. “Ruling with a gentle hand inspires far more loyalty than an iron fist” He shoots his son a quick glare, urging the younger Baael to behave himself. He can sense that Mark is burning for a confrontation and his suspicions of his son hiding something are all but confirmed. It seems that the two Earthling know something that he has yet to discover.  
“I believe we can use those principles to come to an agreement to confront the plague spreading across the Galaxy” Prince Pellegrino interjects harshly dropping his spoon to it’s saucer with a loud rattle, his words come across as false even to his own ears.

  
“Do explain?” Jensen encourages with a daring smile, willing the Prince to dig himself into a hole.

  
“I think we can agree that this Darkness poses a significant threat to both of our races. It is currently ravaging Andromeda and growing nearer to Hades each day” The Prince begins, mentioning the Baael’s home planet. “It shows no sign of stopping or slowing down. There is reason to believe it will continue into your Milky Way Galaxy, after it devours our planet, if it is not stopped” Pellegrino continues. “I believe it would be in everyone’s best interest if we trust one another to lend support in challenging this common enemy.”

  
King Benedict nods in agreement with his son, calmly reaching again for his spoon. He carefully refills his teacup while measuring Jensen and his companion with a leveling gaze. “That is true Prince Pellegrino, our races do need to be able to trust one another if we are to come to an agreement about combating the Darkness” Jensen nods, emphasizing trust. It is no secret that human kind does not take kindly to slavery, despite their past, and the Prince holding a human slave does not do anything to further their trust.

  
The King watches silently, keeping his expression neutral as his gaze drifts between his son and Emissary. Chris is watching the Prince through narrowed eyes, pinching the tip of his tongue between his teeth to help him stay silent. Jensen can feel his friend seething beside him, eager to tear into the Prince about Misha. If the Prince is flaunting a human slave in front of those he knows won’t take kindly, Jensen suspects the man has a different end game. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as the four men eye each other suspiciously.

  
“I believe a gesture of good faith is in order” King Benedict coughs from across the table as he gets to his feet. He did not miss the ill concealed glare the Prince has been assaulting Jensen with, nor has he missed the look of high suspicion being leveled towards his son by the Emissary’s companion. He stands at the head of the table, palms resting flat on its surface as his claws gently rake against the well worn wood. He stands silent for a moment, weighing his options. He sees through the diplomatic pomp and circumstance in front of him, the whole charade is one ill word from the Prince from collapsing. He must step in. “Do your people have any information about our common enemy? From what we have determined, it is a foe that prefers to fight from the shadows. None of our soldiers have returned from confronting it. We had staged a mission, using our stealth fighters to attempt to get close enough to simply observe. They disappeared without a trace.” The King admits, sharing information that he had not previously even shared with the Prince.

  
“We have had similar results. Our Council of Nations has been debating launching an assault with our nuclear weapons, but they are hesitant to take action without proper allies in the Andromeda Galaxy.” Jensen admits as if he’s telling a secret. Nuclear weapons are the one advantage humankind has over the Alien races. Uranium has become incredibly rare over the last hundreds of years, and humans have figured out a way to synthesize the metal. The unique atmosphere of Earth is the only reason they can keep the radioactive substance stable. It is a highly valuable bargaining chip.

  
“Human nuclear weapons may prove to be highly valuable. The Baalberithiae would be very interested in becoming allies to Earth. We have an enormous military force to offer. I believe that with our combined efforts we might have a chance of stopping the spread of the darkness, if we can discover how to get close enough to it.” The King explains hopefully, using the full name for his people instead of the common name of Baaels.

  
Jensen nods, agreeing that the combined military force of the humans and Baaels, and their combined technologies, could be a force to be reckoned with.

  
The three men negotiate for the next several hours, with Christian staying mostly silent. Occasionally the King asks for his opinion, but Christian is largely ignored. The man uses this time to make observations, eventually excusing himself to get some air. Neither Baael shows any interest in violence towards them, and Chris sees this as an opportunity to do some exploring. He wants to know if there are more slaves here, and plot escape routes in the event everything goes south. He makes a stop back by Jensen’s room, to check that Misha is being left alone. He finds the slave kneeling next to the bed where Chris first saw him.

  
The dark haired man kneels still as a statue, barely daring to breath. Christian notices the blanket from earlier is carelessly discarded on the floor behind Misha, it looks as if the slave had been still wrapped in it before hurriedly casting it off at the sound of someone at the door. “Relax son. Just wanna talk” Chris sits on the chair next to the desk. “You can get comfortable” He encourages when the dark haired man makes no move to shift position or reclaim his blanket.

  
Slowly, blue eyes drift up and over Christian’s face. Searching for any sign of deception before Misha relaxes fractionally and hesitantly reaches for the blanket. Chris smiles gently as Misha tugs the blanket back around himself. “Wh….what do you want to talk about?” Misha whispers, tripping over his words. He isn’t typically permitted to speak, and talking in full sentences almost never happens anymore. He has only ever been allowed to speak freely with other slaves, and he hasn’t seen another slave since the Prince fed the others to the dogs.

  
“You, if that’s ok?” Chris speaks slowly and quietly, nearly cooing at the man. He does not want to scare him any more than he already is. Christian is highly skilled in reading people, and he can see intense fear in the man…but also curiosity. He knows that he needs to play to that curiosity. He is met with silence, and a stony blue gaze. It appears that now that Misha has permission to make eye contact, he isn’t going to stop.

  
“How long have you been…here?” Chris asks, not sure how to phrase his question. He has a hard time looking at another human being and thinking slave. He avoids looking into Misha’s eyes, but the man apparently has no problem continuing to stare.

  
“Two years, I think. It’s hard to tell” Misha mutters uncomfortably as he pulls the blanket tighter to him. He is never allowed clothing, being allowed to be covered at all is new and he finds that he likes it. He glances down, back to the floor, to stop himself from saying more. This master is kind enough to allow him to speak, he does not want to risk losing this privilege. The Prince only wants to hear him scream and beg.

  
“That’s a long time. How long have you been a…slave?” Chris forces himself to ask, swallowing around the hard lump in his throat that formed with word slave. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing his long and dark locks back behind his ears as he forces himself to look at Misha.

  
“It’s all I remember” Misha says with a shrug, trying not to let on how uncomfortable this is really making him. His comfort is not important, only the master’s…and this is what the master wants right now.

  
“Huh. How many slaves does the Prince have?” Chris asks, turning the topic away from Misha directly when he senses the other man’s discomfort.

  
“I haven’t seen any others” Misha says plainly, narrowing his eyes at Chris. What is this master getting at?

  
“That’s good. I…I mean, not good…crap” Chris stumbles over his words, scrambling to his feet and burying his face in his hands when Misha gives him a cocked headed, confused glance.

  
“What do you want with me?” Misha blurts out, giving in to his curiosity. He immediately drops his head to the carpet, realizing his mistake at interrupting the master. He braces himself, waiting for the blows to fall. Instead of pain however, Christian just keeps talking.

  
“I want to know more about this situation. I’m going to be honest with you Misha, we’re going to get you out of here if we can” Christian softly walks over to where Misha is still half laying and half kneeling on the rug by the bed. The blanket still wrapped tightly around him as a visible tremor passes through the man. Chris crouches down in front of him, reaching out a hand to hook under Misha’s chin. Misha follows as Chris guides him up, meeting him eye to eye.

  
Christian reaches out his hand to lay on Misha’s shoulder as the other man’s brilliant blue eyes search his own, widening with surprise and stifling confusion. Internally, Christian is cursing the words that just came out of his mouth. He shouldn’t have said that. “Jensen and I…we need you to trust us a little. Can you do that?” He hold’s Misha’s gaze, watching waves of shock, disbelief and finally incredulity cross his features.

  
Misha draws back as if he’s been bitten, unsure of how to take what Christian just told him. No one speaks to him like he’s a person, or anything other than a dumb animal really. And no one has ever mentioned anything that could be construed as freedom. It’s impossible! He curls back into himself. This kind of talk is dangerous. This is the kind of talk that could get him killed. “No” He mumbles, not meeting Christian’s eyes. “Can’t” Misha rocks back and forth a little, hugging himself as Christian watches in alarm.

  
Chris knows that he overstepped. His goal wasn’t to scare the man, but it appears that he’s gone and done just that. “Just stay here Mish, don’t tell anyone what I told you. We’ll do what we can, but I can’t make any promises.” He tries to pat Misha’s shoulder, but the man flinches away and he gives up that idea. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Christian holds his hands up in surrender and backs out of the room.

  
He curses himself for possibly making things worse for Misha and he’s gets so distracted that he fails to notice the Baael pushing a cart towards him until he runs into her with a crash. Bottles of water and other beverages go flying in a huge clatter in every direction. Bouncing off of the floor and walls, some breaking open with the liquid quickly soaking into the wooden floor as the Baael who had been pushing the cart scrambles to collect the bottles. Christian quickly picks himself up and helps collect the bottles, muttering apologies as the last of the mess is cleaned up. The Baael he plowed into has been silent through the whole ordeal, and Christian is sure he’s being ignored. At least until the woman stops and stares at Christian, gesturing to his face.

  
“You’re, ah…word…” The Baael starts to mutter, snapping her fingers in a searching motion.

  
Christian reaches up and touches his forehead, pulling back reddened and wet fingertips “Bleeding” He mutters, offering the word the Baael was having problems coming up with. Christian remembers now that not all Baaels speak the common tongue, apparently this is one of them.

  
“Doctor” The Baael says with a heavy nod, reaching for Christian’s hand.

  
“It’s ok” Christian shakes his head at the matronly older Baael and tries to pull back from her grasping claws.

  
“No. Doctor. You” She is having none of his resistance and her tone is very reminiscent of his Nanna when he was boy. He lets her grasp his hand and drag him after her down the hall. Resistance is futile. She mutters in her own language as they go, if Christian had to guess…he’s being called a clumsy fool, or maybe a helpless child. It’s hard to guess for certain.

  
They arrive at a sliding glass door that looks very different than the surrounding hallway. It is clear and modern looking, much unlike the somewhat rustic design of everywhere else. It speaks of cleanliness and Christian can only guess that this is the Doctor the woman has insisted on him seeing.

  
She raps on the door with her clawed hand for nearly a full minute before a much younger, disheveled looking young Baael man hits the pad to open the door from the inside. The two Baaels exchange words in their own language, the woman gesturing towards Christian wildly. The young doctor rolls his eyes at the woman and nods his ascent to what Christian can only assume is treating his scratch. The woman turns and leans up onto her tiptoes to pinch one of Christians cheeks and pat his shoulder. “Doctor take care you” She nods and ambles away, leaving Christian alone with this doctor.

  
“I’m sorry about Mary, she mothers everyone….don’t worry.” The doctor holds out his hand and Christian studies the red flesh and short claws of the offered hand before taking it. “Lets get you patched up” The doctor smirks and gestures Christian inside.

  
“It’s just a scratch, I don’t really…” Christian starts to protest.

  
“And make me have Mary on my case for letting you leave here still bleeding? I don’t think so” The doctor interrupts, waving Christian towards the exam table. Chris shrugs, not seeing the point in fighting. He wouldn’t want that woman on his case either.

  
“My names Christian” He introduces himself as he hops up onto the table. It isn’t much different from his doctor back home really. This shouldn’t be too bad.

  
“Osric” The Baael nods with a toothy smile. Not for the first time, Christian notices that their teeth are sharp. From his understanding, they primarily eat a meat based diet…so that explains the pointy teeth, but it makes them no less unnerving. Christian silently wonders if maybe some of these species made it to earth thousands of years ago and the early religions based their own Devils on them.

  
“I take it you’re with the Earth Emissary?” Osric asks as he gently dabs the cut above Christian’s eye with antiseptic. The solution stings, but its nothing Chris can’t handle. The cut is deeper than he first suspected but he will not admit that perhaps Mary was right in dragging him here.  
“Yes” Christian answers shortly, but he is careful to not put an edge on his tone as he giggles his knee in impatience.

  
Osric takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever reaction this human might have to his next questions. “Okay” He manages to say as a question.

  
“Do you have much experience treating humans?” Christian asks with a raised brow, looking suspiciously at the doctor.

  
“Hmmmm, only one really. I take it you’ve met Misha?” Osric asks with a wince, not quite knowing what to expect from the human on his table. Christian’s bright blue eyes burn with anger as they glare through the Baael.

  
“So you experiment on slaves?” Christian bites, his tone dripping with disgust, as he hops off the table to leave. He doesn’t care that a bandage isn’t in place yet.

  
“Experiment? No” Osric quickly says, blocking Christian’s path. “Please, sit. There are some things you should know” Osric holds his hands out, urging Christian to calm down. His heart is racing, terrified at what might happen to him if the Prince finds out what he’s about to say. Osric is a doctor first, and he can’t stand silent when he has this opportunity.

  
Christian is about to make a sarcastic retort, but he is stopped cold by the earnest look in the doctors eyes. “Please. I am a physician. I do my best to cause no harm” Just then his stomach rumbles angrily and he subconsciously rubs it with one hand. Giving his lunch rations to Misha was worth getting some food into the man, but it doesn’t make him any less hungry.

  
“What should I know?” Christian regards the doctor with narrowed eyes, their brilliant blue color all but hidden in his scrutiny of the doctor. He makes no move to return to the table, but he doesn’t make a move to leave, either.

  
“I see Misha in here a least weekly. The Prince is rough on him” Osric looks down and away, not wanting to call his Prince abusive…but unsure how to get around it. He bites his lower lip in nervousness.

  
“Rough?” Christian studies the Doctor with a sense of incredulity. Needing a doctor is beyond rough as far as Christ is concerned. He brushes his hair back behind his ears, again, and takes a step back towards the exam table.

  
“Look. I can only say so much. The Prince would have me killed for talking to you” Osric looks down, then glances between the abandoned exam table and Christian. “Please, sit” He gestures one hand toward the table, silently pleading with his eyes for Christian to go back.

  
The two men stare at each other for a moment, thoughts running through Christian’s head faster than he can keep track of. He carefully studies the expression of the other man before offering a small nod in agreement to the doctor’s request.

  
“I saw Misha this morning, his nose had been smashed and he had two broken ribs. Last week it was his wrist and a cracked pelvis. His injuries are getting more frequent and more severe” Osric quietly explains as he continues to clean the cut above Christian’s eye. Christian stays silent for his part, the fire in his eyes doing more than enough talking.

  
“All I can do is fix him up just for the Prince to tear apart again. Misha’s strength amazes me, most men would have crumbled and died by now. That boy has been through hell” Osric continues, finishing cleaning the wound and begins applying a bandage. The cut is not severe enough for the healing salve, it wouldn’t be worth the pain it would cause the man.

  
“Why are you telling me this?” Christian asks stonily. He schools his expression to cover up the shock and disgust roiling through him at the Doctor’s words. The sincerity of the other man’s tone gives Christian a guarded hope that Misha at least has one ally here.

  
“What I want to know is, can you help him?” Osric asks, dropping his hand onto Christian’s wrist and squeezing gently while searching his eyes for truth.

  
“We’re trying. Do you know anything that could stack the deck in our favor?” Christian offers the doctor a nod and crooked smirk.  
“The only thing I can really say, is that two years ago, King Benedict forbade keeping slaves on fleet ships. The Prince kept Misha here illegally.” Osric leans close to Christian’s ear when he whispers, not wanting to risk anyone overhearing him share this semi-secret piece of information. “Misha was the Prince’s newest toy then, so he decided to keep him hidden. Most on board don’t know he exists”

  
Christian pulls back in surprise at this admission. He knows the Baaels keep slaves, this is no secret, but not allowing slaves to be kept on the royal fleet is news. This might explain why Misha seems to be the only slave here. So why would the Prince expose the slave like he did? “Thank you” Christian mutters, stepping down from the table. “For everything” He shakes the Baael’s hand again before turning to head back to the command center. He hopes Jensen is done for the day by now, it sounds like Jared’s plan might work if they play their cards right.


	4. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misha learns to relax a little around his new human friends,.

Jensen is back in his room with Misha when Christian finally arrives back. They are both weary from the day’s events. Being a diplomat is exhausting! Jensen flops back on the bed, they’ve finally convinced Misha to take the chair and it barely takes any convincing to get the dark haired man to eat some. They were appalled when the food was delivered and there were only two plates. When Jensen asked, Captain Sheppard informed them that the slave only gets scraps when the Prince allows. It was no big decision to share with the man.

  
Misha is happy just to sit in silence and eat. He can’t remember the last time he was permitted to eat twice in one day, and good food to. The last time he remembers eating like this was before the Prince bought him. The two strange masters seem very kind. Misha thinks that maybe he likes them and the thought makes him cock his head in wonderment. This is all so strange.

  
Christian and Jensen watch Misha out of the sides of their eyes. They will need to discuss their next steps, but are hesitant to do so in front of the man. Christian remembers the Doctor telling him that Misha is strong, stronger than he looks, and he’s inclined to include him in the conversation. Jensen is a little more wary, sneaking glances at Misha who is now wearing the blanket with ease.

  
Jensen doesn’t want to get any of their hopes up, he’s already feeling fiercely protective of the man despite them just having met. This was supposed to a simple mission. Jensen was not supposed to meet the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, and have that man needing rescue. He scrubs his hands across his face, pushing to his feet. He notices Misha tense at his abrupt motion and he wants nothing more than to fall to his knees in front of the darker haired man and promise him that no one will ever hurt him again. But he can’t make that promise.

  
Even if they do manage to get him off of this ship and away from the Prince, Misha would have a long way to go before he could really be free. Adjusting from being a slave to a free man is huge. Misha couldn’t even choose what he wanted to eat from the two plates in front of him, how could he choose where he wants to live? Or what kind of work he wants to do? Or even what to wear for the day? Jensen pushes those questions from his mind as he notices piercing blue eyes watching him from underneath those long, dark lashes that Jensen should not be noticing to begin with. He forces a smile in the man’s direction, he can’t imagine what is going through Misha’s mind with all of this.

  
Misha stands to collect the plates, clearing them and placing them on the small table next to the door as he had been trained to do. “Thanks man” Christian says with a smile as his plate is collected. His first instinct was to tell Misha not to, that they would get the plates but he quickly decided against voicing that opinion. Misha seemed content to do something, and it can’t hurt to give him something that is normal in his word.

  
Misha perks up at the mention of Thanks, almost smiling. The master is pleased with him! This is good. He feels a strange pull towards the green eyed man, Jensen, he rolls the name around his tongue without giving it a voice. The man is still pacing, lost in thought. Not even his friend is disturbing him, so Misha certainly will not. Neither man has shown any interest in using him, so he wanders back to the chair. He glances at both of the strange men before sitting, looking for confirmation and the only thing he sees are emerald eyes trained on him.

  
Misha doesn’t understand the look he’s receiving. It isn’t questioning or demanding, it just is. So Misha sits and looks away, glances towards Christian. Christian isn’t paying him any attention, his gazed is fixed on his friend. Clearly seeing something that Misha does not when he clears his throat gruffly.

  
The sounds draws Jensen’s attention away from his studies of the blanket wrapped man and he turns his startled gaze to Chris. “I think we need to get this conversation over with before I turn in for the night” Christian effects yawn, stretching his arms wide and ticks his head towards Misha.

  
“Uh. Yeah. I guess we should” Jensen swallows hard. He’s been trying to think about how to begin this conversation. How do you tell someone “Hey, we’re going to try to steal you away. I promise we’ll try to not get you killed”? Jensen rotates his head from side to side, the cracking and popping of joints sounding through the too quiet room as Misha looks between the men curiously.

  
Misha studies the expressions on the two other men, he’s almost brave enough to ask what is going on. A lifetime of training makes him hold his tongue though. He doesn’t think either of these masters would punish him for speaking, but he can never be too sure. He doesn’t want to ruin how nice they’ve been to him.

  
“Misha?” Christian asks as Jensen looks intently at the wall behind his friend’s head. “We’re leaving tomorrow, and we want to take you with us” He continues once he has the man’s attention.

  
Misha gapes in bird like fashion, nearly squawking at the revelation. Christian said that earlier, but he didn’t believe him then. His focus darts between the two men, but both remain silent. “You want to buy me?” Misha eventually squeaks out, panic beginning to spread across his features. Last time he was bought, his situation went from OK to a nightmare.

  
Jensen is at his side in a flash, dropping to his knees in front of the blue eyed man before he can think not to. “No no no no” Jensen urges Misha to be calm, gently taking one of the man’s hands in his own. “We want to free you” He reaches up with his other hand to gently cup Misha’s cheek. The panic and fear on the other man’s face is like a knife to his heart and Jensen has a hard time regretting acting like he cares. Jensen knows he shouldn’t get emotionally involved, but he feels like he would do anything to keep Misha safe and he can’t quite bring himself to hide it.

  
“I know you have no reason to trust us, but please believe us when we say that we have a plan. We’re here to strike a deal with the Baaels to fight a common enemy, and we’re going to make your freedom a part of that deal.” Christian continues as Misha stares wide eyed at Jensen.

  
Free him? That’s…insane. Misha wants so badly to lean into Jensen’s touch. He can see the honesty written in the other man’s mossy green eyes. Misha wants to be closer to Jensen, but he doesn’t dare move. He doesn’t dare to anything to make the two men change their minds. “Master will never let me go” Misha whispers, still locking eyes with Jensen. What could they possibly want with him? Omegas like him are only good for one thing, and Jensen doesn’t seem to want that.

Christian is still talking in the background, but Misha’s world is narrowed to focus only on two, soft, green eyes looking up at him through blond lashes and a nose smattered in freckles. Misha forces a breath, gathering his courage and reaching out to cup Jensen’s scruff covered jaw in his own hand. He jumps in shock when Jensen leans into the touch, gently nuzzling his hand and closing his eyes.

  
“We’ll find a way to make him” Jensen draws back slightly, expression determined as he flashes Misha a cocky grin. Misha can’t help but return the smile, smiling for the first time in recent memory. He hopes these two men are right.

  
Christian watches the exchange between Misha and Jensen with a touch of unease. It isn’t like Jensen to be like…this. All soft and sensitive? The Jensen he knows is aloof and cocky with an attitude to match. He hasn’t seen Jensen like this since he was with Danneel. Jensen was head over heels for that woman and acted like a lovesick fool around her. It was sweet, really…and fun to watch, but they can’t afford for Jensen to act like this right now.

  
Christian stays a while longer, gently trying to keep Jensen in line while planning and discussing the plans for next day. They’re going to make Misha being released into their custody a condition of the treaty they are here to make. The Prince won’t go for it, but in the presence of his father he will hopefully have no choice. They’re hoping that drawing attention to a slave that is not supposed to be there will give the King more motivation to bargain with them in order to save face. Christian is going to take Misha to Osric first thing in the morning, so that he is as safe as he can be on the Baael ship while Jensen and Christian bargain for his life.

  
To distract from the tense, gut churning conversation; Jensen has Misha try on some of his extra clothes that he brought so that the man might have something to wear when they take him. The clothes are too big, Misha isn’t much shorter than Jensen but he is a lot too skinny. He looks almost like a little kid as he flaps the extra length of sleeve hanging off the ends of his hands. Jensen rolls them up for him with a shy smile as a warm, fuzzy feeling passes through him. Watching Misha trying on clothes with the simple joy of a child, his bright blue eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips drawing back so far in a smile where his gums show is making Jensen feel things that he hasn’t felt in such a long time, and it feels good. Hopeful even. It’s difficult to watch, knowing that things might go horribly wrong tomorrow, but at the same Jensen doesn’t want this to stop.

  
“Alright, I’m going to turn in. You two going to be okay?” Christian stands and stretches. He knows that none of them are going to get any sleep tonight, but they need to keep up appearances. Christian would prefer the three of them stay together, but Jensen insisted that it appear that he’s enjoying alone time with his temporary slave.

  
“Yeah, we’re good. Try and get some rest” Jensen answers, rising from his spot on the bed to walk his friend to the door. “You sure you trust this Osric?” Jensen leans in close, whispering in Chrisian’s ear so that Misha doesn’t overhear. Misha told them that Osric has done nothing but help him, either with his healing skills or with food, so Jensen feels forced to go along with Chris’ idea, but he doesn’t like it one bit.

  
“Trust? No. But he’s the best we’ve got” Christian whispers back, clapping his friend and commander on the shoulder. The swirling in his gut means he won’t get any sleep tonight, he’ll probably have his ear to the door all night listening for anything that might be a trap. This is the first time that a diplomatic mission has turned into anything more, and he sure as hell hopes that this is the last.

  
Jensen closes the door quietly behind Christian and drags the small table next to the door and jams it under the door handle as they agreed upon. It won’t keep anyone out for long, but it will alert Jensen if anyone tries to sneak into the room. He doesn’t trust that they will remain undisturbed and he can’t ignore the tingle of anxiety he’s feeling at the idea. His body surges with the same adrenaline that caused him to join the International Space Defense to begin with, he never thought he’d feel that again being relegated to diplomatic crap.

  
Diplomacy has always been Jared’s forte. Even in basic training, Jared would bargain and talk their way out of any trouble he might have gotten them into. Don’t get him wrong, Jared was a really good soldier, but he is excellent at reading people and manipulating them. He tried to teach Jensen, but Jensen is too driven by his own clear definitions of right and wrong. He doesn’t have enough give, enough understanding. Jensen would rather play with guns than words.

  
His best friend always had faith in him, and after that bomb left him in traction for months in a hospital, Jared convinced Jensen to try serving his last year in the Diplomatic division instead of being forced into early retirement. Jensen would have stayed on longer if he hadn’t gotten hurt. This is supposed to be Jensen’s last mission. He has two months left. Just enough time to be debriefed and travel back to Earth. He’s scheduled to be home in Dallas exactly one week after his discharge. He can’t help but feel like those plans have been blown to hell by the appearance of this chestnut haired man.

  
“Soo…You want the bed?” Jensen asks, turning back to the chestnut haired man in question. He forces confidence into his tone, trying to quell the nervousness rising in his stomach. Give Jensen a gun to fire, an enemy to battle and he’s perfectly in his element. Give him a stranger to share a room with and he feels lost like he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager and his world was flipped upside down.

  
“However you wish” Misha shrugs, turning away from Jensen and crossing his arms across his chest. This is the moment he’s been dreading. What happens now? Jensen has been kind to him, spoken words about freedom and other things that Misha has never dared to dream of. How long will this kindness last? He’s been fooled by Masters before, Jensen probably isn’t any different.

  
“I’ll be fine with, with the floor. You can have the bed” Jensen’s voice is soft and hesitant, he isn’t sure what Misha means by however you wish but he doesn’t like the sound of it. He gestures towards the bed, even though the other man has his back turned. Jensen steps over and grabs one of the pillows for himself and lowers himself to the floor, leaning his back against the edge of the bed and faces the door.

  
“Jensen?” Misha asks, voice thin and full of confusion. He swallows down his urge to say Master or sir, Jensen made it clear that he wanted to be called by name. He steps around the edge of the bed, blue eyes peering down at the other man. What is he doing? Jensen is sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, pillow on his lap as he picks at a fingernail. His focus is anywhere but Misha, and the darker haired man finds that he doesn’t like being ignored by this man. He’s always been happy to be ignored, it meant he wasn’t being hurt, but it feels different with Jensen.

  
Jensen continues to avoid Misha’s penetrating gaze but he can feel it drilling into him, making him squirm slightly. “Sleep. You can sleep on the bed” Jensen mutters, ears flushing hot under the intense scrutiny he’s receiving. “I’ll stay here” He gestures around him at the floor and still avoiding Misha’s gaze.

  
“But, that’s not….I can’t” Misha lets his confusion overtake his words. What the hell? He carefully gets to his knees next to Jensen, moving slowly and trying to keep calm. For him to take the bed while Jensen is on the floor is unthinkable! “Please, I’m comfortable with the floor. You, you take the bed” Misha has known Jensen for only a few hours, but he has learned enough to know that trying to tell him that a slave’s place is the floor, not the Master’s, won’t do him any good. Jensen seems to want to break every rule that Misha has survived by. And now he just argued with the other man! The Prince would beat him to the brink of death for words like that. He looks down so that Jensen doesn’t see the fear he knows is showing in his eyes, he’s sure that Jensen doesn’t want to see that.

  
“I’m not going to be able to sleep, you should at least be comfortable” Jensen tries to explain, finally looking up to take in Misha’s expression. His stomach clenches when he sees the other man clutching the blanket around himself so tightly that the whites of his knuckles are showing and his shoulders hunched in on himself. “Hey. It’s ok. If it bothers you, you can sit here with me” Jensen tries to smile, patting the floor next to him, but it doesn’t make it to his eyes.

  
Sit with him? On the floor? Misha blinks owlishly at Jensen, forehead crinkling in confusion. He doesn’t know how to take this. He wants to argue, why should Jensen be on the floor at all? The man can sleep better if he’s comfortable on the bed, or the chair. Arguing with a Master is a dangerous plan. Who knows how far Misha can push before Jensen’s kindness wears out? He decides to kneel where Jensen patted, it seems like a safe enough decision.

  
Jensen gave no indication of wanting anything from Misha, other than for him to sit, so the dark haired man stays still. He closes his eyes, willing his breathing to slow and hide the nervousness he’s feeling. Now that he’s alone with Jensen, the weight of their plans are catching up with him and it presses all around; threatening to see a return of his dinner and making it hard to breath. Misha silently pleads with himself to calm down, to not upset Jensen.

  
Jensen senses Misha’s hesitation, he can almost hear the other man’s heart racing. Jensen wants to badly to reach out and touch, to wrap his arm around Misha and tell him that everything is going to be ok. He can’t let himself do that though, he’s already pushed too far. Maybe he should have set them both on the bed, it would be more comfortable at least. Yeah, right, he huffs to himself. He’d just feel even more wrong if he shared a bed with the man he’s supposed to be rescuing. This is better. Less personal.

  
“You don’t have to kneel” Jensen finally speaks, his voice so low that Misha can barely hear him. “You can get comfortable, if you want?” He doesn’t glance up, still studying his own hands intently, but he can feel Misha shift beside him.

  
Slowly, as if Jensen will change his mind, Misha slides his feet out from underneath him. He studies how Jensen is sitting, with his legs stretched out in front of him, and Misha decides to imitate him. His knees pop in protest and he fights a wince as he straightens his legs, crossing his ankles like Jensen is. It takes some finagling, but he gets his blanket around him comfortably. Jensen had wanted him to keep the borrowed clothes on, but Misha was too afraid to. If he got caught...

  
“Better?” Jensen takes a quick glance to his left, trying to gauge the other man’s reaction.

  
“Why are you doing this? For me?” Misha can’t help but ask, the quiet of the room giving him bravery that he had only imagined having earlier. If he were stronger, he would have broken free from his slavery years ago. He would have, should have, found a way. What could the Emissary and his Lieutenant possibly want with someone as weak as himself, a weak omega?

  
“It’s our job” Is Jensen’s immediate reply and he regrets it almost as quickly. “It is against Earth law to hold anyone, especially humans, as slaves. It’s wrong, I can’t just look the other way” Jensen tries to make it better, but he feels like he made it worse.

  
“You’re a noble Alpha” Misha muses, not realizing he said that out loud until Jensen nearly chokes.

  
“A _what_?” Jensen sputters, wide green eyes whipping towards Misha in startled confusion. Alpha? What?

  
Misha looks down instantly, afraid he just offended the man. “I’m sorry, I overstepped. I shouldn’t have said that” Misha mumbles into his lap, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms tight around them.

  
“No, it’s ok. What did you mean by Alpha?” Jensen immediately regrets reacting so strongly, but he has no idea what Misha is talking about. He’s heard of other species having second gender designations, but not humans.

  
“You’re an Alpha, right?” Misha mumbles, still not looking up. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Jensen doesn’t want him to speak freely. He can be good, he can be good for this Alpha. He knows he can. He can do better. Panic rises in his again, he ruined his chance. He swallows hard around the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut against the tears threatening to form. No. Please no.

  
Jensen stares at Misha in disbelief for a moment. Alpha? No…what has this man been told? He see’s the beginnings of a breakdown and loses his battle to not touch. He carefully lays a hand on the back of Misha’s neck, squeezing slightly in a calming gesture and he feels the other man lean back into his touch ever so slightly. “No, Misha. Humans only have two genders. Male and female. No Alphas, no Betas and no Omegas” He says as calmly as he can, his words barely making it above a whisper and higher pitched than his voice normally is.

  
Misha relaxes slightly at the man’s soothing tone. He’s relieved that Jensen isn’t angry, but his head is swimming in confusion what his words mean. Is Misha even human then? He thought he was, he’s always been called a human. Are his Master’s wrong? No…they can’t be wrong. The Masters are always right. “But I am. I’m omega” Misha sobs out, letting his devastating confusion overtake him. If he isn’t human, then they won’t take him with them.

  
“No. I promise you, you’re not. Whoever told you that was lying. You’re just a man, just like me. I promise” Jensen draws Misha closer, wrapping his arm around the other man as he breaks into tears. Jensen has no doubt that his words are true, but he doesn’t know how to even begin to convince Misha. Renewed anger courses through him at the slavers. Not only did they take his freedom, but they lied about his identity to? A large part of Jensen just wants to take Misha to his ship and fly away in the night. Fuck the treaty. Another large part of him wants to shoot the Prince in the face on their way out. He manages to swallow his rage and angry plotting “Shhhh” Jensen coos, cradling the other man against his chest and running his other hand gently through his hair. He knows this is inappropriate, but he can’t just let Misha be upset. He’s hurting enough already.

  
The darker haired man fights his warring emotions as he leans in to Jensen’s touch. Physical comfort is rare for him, any comfort is rare, and he’s going to take what he can get despite the doubts swirling through his head. He wants to cry, rage, scream and beg for Jensen to take him with them. Even if they don’t free him because he’s an Omega, belonging to Jensen has to be better than the Prince. Misha understands now what the older slaves in the brothel warned him about when he was a child. They told him to seal himself away deep inside, don’t let anything in. Don’t let yourself care or hope or dream. He understands now, now that the tenuous hope he couldn’t have imagined a day ago is at risk of being destroyed as quickly as it came. It’s worse than dying.

  
“But I am” Misha says, straightening out of Jensen’s hold. “I know I am” Misha’s blue eyes search Jensen’s mossy green ones. Misha resolves to be strong, swallowing his trepidation at arguing with a Master. But Jensen isn’t really a Master, is he? He’s just a free man. So what if he isn’t an Alpha? It doesn’t change the fact that Misha wants to go with him. It doesn’t change the fact that meeting Jensen might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “Will you still take me with you?” His eyes plead, beg and he’s ready to do anything if only the two humans won’t reject him.

  
Jensen gapes at him a moment, not sure what to say. “Misha, I….” Blue eyes turn away, looking down as the slave creates a small amount of space between them. “I don’t care. If you’re omega. I don’t think you are, but it doesn’t matter. You’re coming with us even if we have to shoot our way out” Jensen doesn’t reach for the darker haired man as those blue eyes slowly lift to meet his gaze. He swallows hard around an unwanted lump in his throat when he sees those blue eyes go watery with unshed tears.

  
Misha summons all of his strength, determined to not be weak. To not cower and beg. To be strong, and brave. “Good” He nods, taking a deep breath to steel himself for what he’s about to do. “I think maybe I will take the bed” He muses, looking back up at the bed with a cocked head and narrowed eyes, he stands, not waiting for Jensen’s approval or even asking for it. He forces down the fear, forces a smile towards the green eyed man and climbs between the sheets, settling back into the pile of pillows.

  
“Sleep well” Jensen mutters softly and Misha can’t help the grin that plasters itself on his face.


	5. Freedom

Misha wakes too quickly, when a firm knocking resounds on the door. He briefly forgets where he is, that he’s snuggled warmly in a bed while the Master is sitting on the cold, hard, floor. It takes him a moment to move into action, before he is quickly flinging back the covers and falling onto the floor beside the bed in a heap just as Jensen gathers his gun and stalks towards the door. It isn’t Christian. “Misha, lay flat. Stay out of sight” He hisses to the man who is untangling his limbs on the other side of the bed. The only indication that the man heard Jensen’s command is the mop of nearly black hair quickly disappearing from view.

  
Misha lays flat, belly pressed to the rug as he considers trying to squeeze underneath the bed. He’s been caught, he knew he would for daring to sleep in the bed. Sheppard has come for him, he knows it. The dark haired man trembles in terror as he waits and a cold chill rushes through him when he hears Jensen greet the person at the door.

  
“Your Majesty?” Jensen nearly squeaks out with surprise at the face on the other side of the door. This wasn’t in the plans. Christian was right, he should have stayed with them. Jensen is caught alone without backup.

  
“Emissary Ackles” A gentle, lightly hissing voice greets. “I was hoping that we could speak in private” The voice continues as Misha strains to listen from his spot half under the bed. That is not the voice of his Master, come to claim him. And the voice does not sound angry.

  
“Yes, of course. Please. Come in” Jensen stands back, allowing the King entry. His mind is spinning with questions but he doesn’t dare refuse the King.

  
“Thank you. I sent a man to collect your Lieutenant, I trust that is acceptable?” King Benedict steps graciously into the room, leaving his guard outside the door.

  
“Yes. Thank you” Jensen gratefully acknowledges. He would much prefer Christian be here. He has no desire to be alone with any of these Devils. “To what do I owe this honor?” Jensen forces himself to ask as politely as possible. He knows that asking the King of the Baael _what the fuck are you doing here_ would not be very diplomatic of him.

  
“I hold the suspicion that you know something regarding my son that I do not. Tell me Emissary, who is this  my son offered you?” King Benedict’s tone goes cold as his narrowed gaze cuts through Jensen like a blade.

  
Jensen debates within himself for a moment, he could be honest and potentially get Misha taken away. He could lie, but that would blow their later plan to smithereens. “Are you aware that there has been another human on this ship?” The question slips past Jensen’s lips before it had even fully formed and he cringes internally at his forwardness.

  
King Benedict narrows his eyes further in his study of the Emissary, searching out any hint of deceit and he rapidly draws the conclusion that the man in front of him is angry. Anger such as this can mean very few things. “Do you mean to tell me that you were offered a slave?” The King doesn’t want to believe this to be true, but the Prince’s frustration earlier and the fencing act between his son and the Emissary during their meeting, coupled with the anger in front of him now leads him directly to this conclusion. Emissary Ackle’s startled expression answers his question immediately and anger rises quickly within the King. “Where is he?” King Benedict demands harshly.

  
Misha listens to their exchange, now scooted almost entirely under the bed and quaking in fear. He has never met the Baael King and can only imagine him to be more cruel than his son. “Misha, come out” Jensen calls to him, a fine tremor to his voice. It is obvious that he would prefer Misha to stay hidden and away from the King’s furious gaze.

  
The slave trembles but does as he’s hold. He hopes his death will be quick. He raises up to his hands and knees, quickly scooting around the end of the bed and revealing his presence to the King. He stops as soon as he knows he’s in view, leaning back so that his weight is on his legs with his head hanging down towards the floor. He hears a growl tear from the King’s throat as heavy boot falls approach him. Rough fingers twist in his hair, wrenching his head up. “How long have you been on this ship!?” King demands angrily, nearly black eyes glaring into the Slave’s face.

  
Misha shakes violently, the pull of his hair bringing pinprick tears to his eyes. He forces his eyes closed, unable to bear the chance of seeing what comes next. “Ta…Two years” He manages to squeak out in terror as his throat threatens to close tight around his vocal cords.

  
“And who is your Master?” The King regards the slave with hawk like scrutiny. Slaves know better than to lie, but taking the word of a slave over his own son’s is treading dangerous water.

  
“P…Prince Pellegrino” Misha manages, cringing. He knows those words are enough to get him killed, but he can’t avoid answering a direct question. Especially not one from the King!

  
“Take your hands off him” A clear and very human voice demands from behind the King. The grip on Misha’s hair is released, allowing the slave’s head to fall forward again. Misha collapses, falling entirely forward and pressing his forehead to the rug. The slaves forces one ragged breath after another, willing himself to stay silent as the King turns around to glare at the other man in the room.

  
“The two of us will work out this treaty right now. And then you will get off of this ship” The King bites out, horns risen high on his head, continuing his glare as another knock sounds on the door. King Benedict forces himself to take deep breaths and calm himself. His rage is not directed at the Emissary, or even this slave. No, his rage is directed at his son who continues to disobey him and prove himself unfit to rule.

  
Jensen doesn’t move, gun still held at the ready but he keeps the good sense not to aim it at the Baael King. The door goes unanswered, but Christian enters regardless.

  
The Lieutenant reaches for his own weapon when he takes in the scene unfolding within the room. He sees Misha in a heap on the floor and both his friend, and the King in a standoff to end all standoffs. “Anyone care to explain what is going on?” Christian bites, attempting to break the tension and both men turn to stare at the newcomer.

  
“We’re not leaving without him” Jensen demands to the King, ignoring Christian’s question.

  
“Good. It certainly cannot stay on this ship” The King bites back, nearly snarling despite his horns lowering slightly as he angrily gives Jensen the information he’s seeking. “Now, lets talk about this treaty” The King forcibly relaxes, diffusing his own tension and smiles at the Emissary and his Lieutenant.

  
Ignoring the slave still on the floor, King Benedict steps over to the only chair in the room and takes the seat. Jensen forces his breathing to slow as Christian approaches Misha. He watches stonily as his friend gathers the slave and moves him to be as far away from both the King and the door as possible.

  
Jensen cannot hear what Christian is whispering in Misha’s ear, but the blue eyed slave appears to relax some as he takes up a kneeling position behind Christian. The Lieutenant plants himself between Misha and everyone else, clearly not intending to move from the man’s side. His hand never leaves the safety on his gun.

  
“Shall we get back to work?” The devil King says impatiently from his chair with a wave of his hand, his voice sounding as if nothing in the world was wrong. “It is clear that, if this treaty is to be made, I will have to be the one to handle it” He lets out a deep sigh, still very unhappy about this situation. But there is work to be done before he can deal with his son. It would be best to get the human’s off of Perdition before the Prince becomes involved.

  
“There will be no treaty unless his freedom is granted” Jensen begins, pointing towards the slave in the corner. His green eyes are on fire and it is taking every bit of his self restraint to remain the diplomat instead of the soldier he prefers to be. “There can be no trust between our people as long as you keep members of our species as slaves!” Jensen continues, the burn of righteous indignation fueling his fire.

  
“That is understandable” King Benedict begins, observing the heavy breathing of the Emissary and recognizing that maybe he should have approached this situation with a little more finesse. “I abolished human slavery within the Baael rule three years ago. I believe this is common knowledge” He continues, reminding the Emissary of the laws in place.

  
“And yet here one is” Jensen glares at the King. “How am I, and all humans, to believe that Misha is simply an oversight!” He demands, barely reigning in his anger. He still stands in the middle of the room, shoulders square and defensive between Christian and the King, unwilling to move.

  
“This man’s presence on this ship goes against my direct decree and the violators will be dealt with. I am willing to allow unannounced human representatives to inspect conditions on Hades” The King concedes, knowing that he will have to offer the proverbial olive branch.

  
“That would be an acceptable beginning, and will be one of the contingences of any agreement we might make here tonight” Jensen agrees, forcing himself to work with the King in front of him.

  
“Now we’re getting somewhere” The King smiles as he presses his clawed fingertips together in thought. “Now, for the meat of the plan”

  
The two men discuss for several hours, undisturbed. When they have enough of a treaty hashed out, King Benedict summons a notary to record their agreements. Earth will offer limited access to their nuclear weapons on a series of conditions, the first being the guarantee of peace and equality between members of the two species. No Human slaves, and no Baael slaves. Christian gives his input on occasion, but mostly silently guards the slave still kneeling in the corner.

  
Once everything is recorded and signed, Benedict rises to take his leave. “I suggest you two remove this man quickly. My son will be none too happy about being left out of these negotiations, despite his ignorance appearing to be necessary” The King leaves without another word or sparing a glance to the highly confused slave.

  
“Get dressed! Now!” Jensen firmly orders the soon to be former slave. The darker haired man scrambles, blindly obeying and grabbing for the too large clothes he had tried on hours before, panic shooting through him more intensely than it ever has before. He can scarcely believe that he’s being allowed to leave with these two other humans. That he has been granted freedom, by the Baael King no less!

  
Jensen presses his gun to the door, listening to murmurs coming from the other side. “We gotta go. Now.” Is all Christian says, his blue eyes nearly glowing as he crosses the room to Misha who is standing open mouthed and staring at the wild look on the other man’s face. Christian grabs for him and Misha can’t stop himself from pulling back. “We don’t have time for this” He growls, grabbing Misha’s arm firmly and dragging him forward.

  
“Misha!” Jensen bites, gaining the other man’s attention. “We need you to stay between the two of us. Don’t do anything unless we tell you to. Got it?” Green eyes bore into the other man’s blue ones, demanding understanding. Misha shrinks back, unsure about this side of his new friend, but nods his consent anyways. He clutches the bag Jensen’s clothes were in, now empty, like his life depends on it. He can’t quite bring himself to put it down and leave his hands empty.

  
“Ready?” Christian hisses, glancing between the two other men and flicking the safety off of his gun. Many races prefer plasma rays or more sophisticated weapons, but the Texan can’t be bothered to give up his good old fashioned 9 mm pistol. It’s served him well his entire life, he isn’t about to change now. Just because they have a treaty with the King, doesn’t mean the Prince won’t try to pull something

  
Jensen gives a sharp nod, flicking the safety off his own weapon and nudging Misha in front of him. Christian will clear the way and Jensen will cover their backs. Baaels are rushing back and forth down the hall, regardless of the late hour and oblivious to the three humans. They keep their weapons lowered, tucked inside their jackets, as they rush down the hall towards their dock. Part of Christian’s job was to formulate an exit strategy and he leads them around a back route he discovered in his wanderings yesterday. If anyone is going to try to stop them, it would most likely be along the route they were guided through when they had arrived. No one would expect them to know another way.

  
They make it over half way unchallenged, but a sudden shout from behind them has them pausing. A sharp command to halt sounds in a voice that has Misha instantly frozen in place. The high hiss from Captain Sheppard sends a jolt of fear through the blue eyed man, and the sight of his blaster pointed directly at him nearly has him falling to his knees.

  
“Come! Now boy! And maybe I’ll tell your Master that they were trying to kidnap you against your will” Sheppard sneers, gun trained on Misha’s head as Jensen aims his own weapon at the Baael. A sick smile creeps across his face as Misha begins to step forward, obeying the orders he’d been forced to for so many years.

  
Christian reaches forward with his free hand, wrapping Misha’s arm in a bruising grip. “Don’t you dare move” He growls in Misha’s ear, causing the slave to tremble in fear as Christian hauls the man’s back tight against his own chest. Christian steps backwards, still holding Misha firmly and training his gun on Sheppard. It is one man against two, and Christian knows that Jensen will die before letting Sheppard get his scaly hands on Misha. The soldier in him will not allow surrender.

  
Misha’s worried blue eyes are blown wide in fear as he struggles to force air into his lungs through the haze of adrenaline coursing through him. His gaze flits between Jensen and Sheppard, thankful for the strong arm bracing him in place. His training urges him to obey Sheppard even though he desperately doesn't want to. Christian slowly drags him backwards, away from the standoff between the other two men. The bag he had been carrying now lays on the floor, his hands clutching at Christian's forearm that’s wrapped across Misha's chest. They step back, and back, Misha's feet skidding on the hard wooden floor that he had been dragged across just the day before.

  
"He is coming with us, on order of your " Jensen glares at Sheppard through the sight on his pistol, the heat of anger pooling in his stomach as a surge of adrenaline races through his veins. The Baael in front of him looks angry, his tail twitching violently behind him. He knows without looking that Christian has Misha and is pulling him away. His entire focus is on the man in front of him.

  
Captain Sheppard glares at the three humans. How dare they try and steal from the Prince! He needs to stop them. "No. He's not" Sheppard aims for Jensen's chest and squeezes his trigger. The green burst of plasma shoots forward toward the man but he manages to dodge, the bolt barely grazing his arm as it destroys the wall behind him.

  
Jensen doesn't get a shot off, but Sheppard falls to the ground anyways. An unfamiliar Baael comes skidding around the corner from behind Sheppard’s prone body. "Go! Go now!" The violet eyed Baael yells as he falls to his fallen Captain's side, letting a dart gun clatter to the ground beside him. He rolls the man over, pulling a small syringe from the Baael's neck and tucking it into his pocket.

  
"Osric?" Misha gasps, recognizing the familiar voice. He openly looks at the Baael, too shocked to remember not to. Christian releases his hold on the blue eyed man and rushes to Jensen's side as Osric jumps to his feet. Jensen was just clipped by the plasma ray, but his arm is still a bloody mess.

  
Osric smiles at Misha, glad that the slave was able to recognize him despite only seeing his face once. "Go, Misha. Go with them" He urges with a smile and a wave of his hand, glad for the small changes he already sees in the man.

  
"Thank you" Misha finally tells him, blue eyes burning into the Baael's violet ones. Thank you for this, for every time he was healed, every time he was fed. Misha has no doubts that he would have died if it hadn't been for the doctor.

  
Osric nods firmly before turning and sprinting down the hall, away from the humans and his tranquilized Captain. He had heard the ruckus from his clinic and grabbed his tranquilizer. He didn’t plan on shooting his Captain with it, but when he saw what was happening he made a choice. He is a physician, first and foremost. He knew the man who had been his patient for years would not survive if he was captured. He couldn’t let that happen. He just prays that no one finds out his betrayal.

  
“I’m fine” Jensen pushes Christian off. “Let’s go” He starts toward Misha, the blue eyed man standing stock still and staring at the blood dripping down Jensen’s arm and the still body of Captain Sheppard on the floor. He lets Jensen grab his arm, pulling him along towards the docking bay.  
Christian hurries ahead of them, they’re almost there. Shouts raise behind them as the unconscious Baael is found by his underlings and sound the alarms. If they weren’t being looked for before, they certainly are now. They hurry, pushing down the hall like a freight train and they slam through the doors of the bay, locking them as they slide shut behind them. Their small travel ship is right where they left it on the otherwise deserted dock. If they took their time, they might find it suspicious but there is no way they’re going to question it right now. They need to leave.

  
Christian enters the door code and it beeps as it decides whether to let them in or not. “Fucking computer! Hurry up you stupid piece of crap!” Christian grumbles, smacking the control panel in impatience. A small eternity passes before it finally decides to slide open and the two men shove Misha inside before following themselves. “There are only two seats, you’ll just have to hold on” Christian snaps to Misha, pointing at a space along the wall where some gear is strapped down.

  
Misha hurries to the corner indicated as Jensen and Christian strap into the pilot seats, wrapping his hands tightly around the rough coils of rope holding the gear in place. The dark haired man gives no thought to what might be hidden in the pile of equipment he’s attaching himself to, his heart is threatening to hammer out of his chest in a relentless staccato rhythm.

  
Jensen wishes he could have Misha take his seat instead, but its going to take both of them to get out of this place. Christian fires the engines, hitting the codes to launch. He’s grateful that the docks on Perdition, The Baael’s ship, open to the outside instead of being buried within. Much easier to escape this way. The control panel beeps as the two men press the correct buttons, Jensen holds his control wheel in a death grip as he anticipates the worst. So far their retreat has been too easy, strangely unchallenged. He can only hope that the King redirected attention elsewhere. Questions rush through his mind but they are dismissed just as quickly, no time for that now. He glances back to ensure the other man is secured as best as he can be, this departure might be rough. He’s pleased to see that Misha has wrapped his hands around the rope holding their spare equipment down and that he’s wedged himself into the corner, nearly out of sight.

  
Christian engages the thrusters and their ship lurches backwards, a loud crack resonating as they disconnect from Perdition. The alarms from within seem to be blaring louder in their urgency but they quickly fade as the two men pilot their small ship away. A glance back reveals a single pursuer, the identity of which is unknown. Jensen abandons his control of piloting to arm the ship’s defense systems. Their diminutive craft is barely larger than an earth bound fighter jet, designed for stealth and speed. It can out maneuver most others, but the craft in pursuance is even smaller, designed for pursuit and destruction.

  
Christian banks left, then right, as the Baael jet closes the distance quickly and fires a missile at their vessel. Without shifting into rapid travel, they cannot outrun it. Christian points their ship vertical, climbing up and up as Misha clings desperately to the cargo pile. Gravity is subjective in space, despite the artificial force applied within their jet and Misha struggles to simply stay in place through the turbulent flying. He has never experienced anything like this before. It would be wondrous under less dramatic circumstances, but as it is he merely squeezes his eyes closed and clamps his mouth against the screams threatening to tear from his throat.

  
Jensen flips the series of switches to prepare their missiles, each one beeping louder and more urgently than the last in warning of the destructive force that they are about to engage. Finally, the last sequence is completed and Jensen takes aim. Christian flips them into a dive to cross paths with their pursuer once again and as they come into range, Jensen fires.

  
Locked on target, the missile flies true but the other ship banks sharply and the missile drifts by uselessly. Jensen tries again in rapid succession, giving the enemy too many projectiles to dodge. He whoops when, in the process of dodging one, the other ship runs into another and a wing is torn from the craft. The two soldiers watch as the enemy spirals back, the lack of gravity not allowing it to fall; only allowing the momentum of the impact to run its course.

  
Jensen and Christian share a silent grin, their joy awakened by the close call and forbidden thrill in their boringly diplomatic assignment. Christian rights their course, giving an approving nod for Jensen to go check on their passenger.

  
Misha is still holding the ropes in a white knuckled grip, but his eyes are open to watch Jensen unbuckling himself from his restraints. Jensen carefully makes his way towards Misha’s corner and settles on the floor beside the other man before he speaks, letting his own heart settle from its frenzied pace.

  
“You ok?” He asks softly, gauging Misha’s reaction. He tries to remind himself not to underestimate how world moving this must be for the darker haired man.

  
Misha offers a nod in return, glancing around and finally letting himself observe the situation he’s found himself in. He tries to be brave, but as his eyes settle on Jensen’s red stained sleeve he feels a renewed surge of anxiety. “Are you ok?” He asks, quiet as a mouse and almost as squeaky, nodding towards Jensen’s arm. It takes a him a moment to disentangle his hand from the ropes; but when he does, he reaches straight for Jensen.

  
Jensen glances down to consider his injury as Misha pulls his ripped sleeve back to reveal drying blood. “Just a scratch I think” He shrugs. He’s had worse, and Chad will patch him up just fine when they get back to the station. “We’ve got a few hours till we get back. You need anything?” He asks, wishing this ship was equipped for three people instead of just two. They weren’t counting on having a passenger.

  
Misha shakes his head, blue eyes glued to Jensen and afraid to blink. What if all of this disappears? He can’t let it out of his sight for even a second, his freedom could fly away quicker than Jensen could follow. Jensen’s green eyes settle closed as Misha watches, the man leaning back into the wall and letting out a deep breath. They sit in silence, Jensen’s eyes not reopening as Misha leans slightly into him. Jensen lets himself drift, he thinks he imagines the warm weight of the other man against him and he doesn’t want to force his eyes open and risk it being a trick. The excitement and lack of sleep of the last days finally catch up and pull him down into peaceful rest.

  
“Jensen” A familiar voice hisses in his ear as his body is jarred rudely. Jensen groans in protest at the disturbance and he feels a weight shift off of him. “Jensen” The voice comes again, louder, and the shaking repeats, stronger.

  
“Christian?” A sleepy voice questions, grating roughly from disuse despite its higher pitch.

  
“Jensen, wake up” The other voice comes a little more into focus and his eyes flutter open, returning his mind to reality. He’s on the floor, his back hurts. His arm hurts. His other arm is asleep and he can’t feel his ass. He rolls his head on his shoulders, seeking out the source of the voice.  
His eyes settle on a pair of intense piercing blue eyes accompanied by too long brown hair. “You fell asleep” His friend informs him. “We’re almost back, need your help” Christian claps his friend’s good shoulder and offers a hand up. Jensen groggily reaches for it with his sleep heavy arm, pins and needles tingling along its length as he’s hoisted to his feet. The other blue eyed man watches intently, excitement and worry etched in his features.

  
“You ready for freedom, Mish?” Christian smiles down at the man, his eyes twinkling with pride and excitement at their accomplishment. Misha can’t find the words, his throat tightening in an impassible lump, so he nods and can’t help the wide grin that spreads over his face.

  
Misha is scared, terrified even, but he’s also excited. He never once imagined that he would ever be free. He was certain that he would die a slave, beaten and bloody before his time. Even asleep, in his dreams, he was never free. He dreamed he had a kind master, who didn’t starve him or beat him and let him look at the stars, but he still had a master. Now what does he have? He fights the urge to cling to Jensen, to beg the man to take him with him wherever he might be going. He doesn’t imagine the man will still want to keep him now that he’s been rescued. Jensen was doing his job by freeing him, he has no more reason to care.

  
Misha swallows back a wave of hurt at the thought. He has nothing. Even as a slave, he had something. Now what does he have? Misha asks himself again and again, hoping for an answer. He slams his eyes shut, trying to keep his distress hidden but he feels eyes on him anyway. He focuses his breathing, just like the men at the brothel taught him to handle the pain of a careless master. To not cry out, to not fight the pain. To submit. This is different, but still the same.

  
Jensen can’t help glancing back towards the other man. He knows his job is done, but he doesn’t want to let Misha go. Misha is going to be lost, confused, overwhelmed. He may be free now, but he’s still helpless and Jensen hates that idea. He forces his focus back to the task at hand, he’ll have to take things as they come. Christian waited until the last possible minute to ask for help and now they are close enough to their station that he can see the Commander’s eyes peering out at them from the bridge as they pass towards the docks.

  
They draw in carefully, no longer in a rush and Misha doesn’t even need to hold on to keep himself from being thrown. He fidgets with the too long sleeves, trying to roll them up like Jensen had done but with much sloppier success. Once they seem to be sitting still, Jensen and Christian both unbuckle themselves and begin collecting the belongings that they didn’t leave behind on Perdition.

  
Jensen steps over to Misha, offering the man his hand to help him up. Misha takes it gently, unsure of exactly what to do, and Jensen grasps the offered hand in both of his and pulls, lifting Misha to his feet. Misha stumbles slightly, falling into the other man and pressing into his chest as Jensen rights him with an excited smile.

  
The bright green eyes lines with crinkles and the wide grin force a smile on Misha’s own face. The other man’s excitement contagious enough to make Misha forget his worries as he smiles back, blue eyes holding a light they haven’t known in a very long time. “You ready? This is going to be intense, but I’ll be with you as much as I can. Ok?” Jensen encourages, reaching a hand back out to rest on Misha’s shoulder.

  
The blue eyed man feels braver with the offered support and nods with enthusiasm. He hasn’t survived 30 years as a slave to succumb to the terrors of freedom. He can do this. He will do this.

  
Christian and Jensen push the keys to open the door, and Misha’s first glimpse of human civilization is unlike anything he’s seen. The floor they step out onto is jet black, and Misha can see his own blue eyes staring back at himself through it. It is inky and endless, no lines or seams mar its perfect surface. The walls surrounding them are dull and hard, the gray of steel. Every surface is hard, unforgiving and cold on his bare feet. Christian leads, Jensen hangs back to walk beside Misha. The two sets of boots fall heavy and confident onto that flawless floor and Misha can feel the silence of his own steps, hesitant beside Jensen.

  
Their progress is halted by a several sets of black boots, nearly as shiny as the floor. A gentle touch on Misha’s elbow causes him to glance up, noticing that two of those boots belong to a woman with fiery red hair. His blue eyes widen in surprise. They allow women to be soldiers? He’s only seen women in serving positions, none in charge. This woman wears an air of command, standing at the head of the trio blocking their path.  
“Ackles! Kane! You two have some explaining to do!” She eyes Christian and Jensen critically before turning a gentler eye to Misha. “And you must be the rescue” She grins at Misha, offering her hand. He likes her instantly.

  
"Commander Day, we can explain" Christian starts before being silenced by her raised hand. She is clearly unhappy with the situation that unfolded on Perdition, but now is not the time or the place to discuss this.

  
"Later" She bites, keeping her attention on Misha. "Captain Ackles, please escort yourself to medical" She turns and eyes the blood on Jensen's arm, and doesn't miss the flash of worry that crosses the new man's face when she sends Jensen away.

  
"Commander, permission to take Misha to be checked out also? He's been through a lot these last 24 hours" Jensen stands at attention, seeking permission from this woman and Misha considers her with narrowed, but curious eyes. Is she in command? Like the Prince was? She doesn’t seem at all like the Prince, the surrounding men seem respect her instead of fear her.

  
"Please Commander, I would prefer to stay with Jensen. If, if that’s ok?" Misha starts off strong but ends in mumbles, desperate enough to not leave the other man's side to speak through his nervousness, his eyes glued back to the floor.

  
"Please, call me Felicia. I'm not  boss!" The woman laughs, her wide smile showing perfectly white teeth and joyful eyes as she reaches out to gently punch his shoulder. "Yes, you can go with Jensen" She keeps smiling and her gentle tone makes Misha brave enough to keep looking away from the floor. "Take care of him Ackles. We'll meet in my office later to discuss what happens next" Commander Day turns back to her Captain, giving him the approval requested with a smile.

  
Misha can feel Jensen relax beside him, as if the man is glad to be allowed to keep Misha with him. Or maybe he's just glad to be going for medical treatment? Maybe it has nothing to do with Misha at all.

  
"Kane, come with me. Ackles, Misha....Dismissed" Commander Day sing songs to the two men. Jensen and Christian exchange a long look before the green eyed man claps Misha on the shoulder and moves them forward.

  
"Looks like you get to meet _Chad_  sooner, rather than the later... or never, that I'd prefer" Jensen half laughs towards Misha. He sounds nervous to the darker haired man and Misha eyes him curiously. He just saw Jensen face down Captain Sheppard with a gun, and escape from the Baaels without breaking a sweat. But he's nervous about him meeting Chad? Who is Chad?

  
"One thing first though" Jensen stops suddenly, turning Misha towards him and reaching for the other man's throat. "This needs to come off" Jensen quickly breaks the lock holding Misha's collar in place and pulls the thick strip of leather from his pale neck. Misha's breath catches in his throat. The last visible proof of his slave status stripped from him. He and Jensen exchange wide grins as a sense of terrified exhilaration passes through the newly freed man.


	6. Chad

“Chad?” Jensen cracks open the door marked _Medical_. He peeks around carefully before opening the door far enough for Misha to see anything.

A large clatter sounds from just out of sight, followed by even louder cursing in very colorful and inventive language; the likes of which Misha has never heard before. And that’s saying something.

  
“Misha, I give you Chad” Jensen bows dramatically, sweeping his arms towards the man in question with a nervous grin. As if on cue, a tall man with close cropped but spiky blond hair comes stumbling around the corner with a bed pan on stuck over one hand, and a clipboard in the other. He’s still muttering obscenities and Misha gives Jensen a worried look.

  
“Don’t worry, he’s smarter than he looks” Jensen leans to whisper conspiratorially to the other man.

  
“Are you sure?” Misha whispers back, half terrified of the idea of going near the chaotic looking man.

  
“Jenny!” The blond doctor nearly screeches, clapping his hands, well…bed pan and clip board, together. Jensen groans as he’s rushed by the squinting man, who _still_ has not put the items down. “And you must be the slave boy! I was told you were coming! I bet Jensen swooped you out of there like Tarzan or something!” Chad turns to Misha, waving the bed pan wildly as the dark haired man looks on in terror.

  
“Chad!” Jensen half yells in shock at the doctor’s choice of words. Chad is a tough pill to swallow, but _really_?!

  
“Oh shush Jenny” Chad waves him off, turning his focus solely to the newcomer. “I’m guessing you have a name? You do have a name right?” He questions, glancing back to Jensen like he is concerned that the man might not actually have a name and pretends to be oblivious to the fact that Misha is stepping closer to press into Jensen’s side.

  
“Misha” The man mutters, trying to decide whether to try and hide behind Jensen or not.

  
Chad suddenly throws the bed pan towards the desk along the wall, missing and sending it clattering to the floor instead. He throws an arm around the mildly terrified dark haired man and drags him away from Jensen. “We’re gonna be good friends, you and I. Just you wait and see”

  
“But, but Jensen” Misha stutters, trying to turn back towards his new friend but Chad’s grip on his shoulders prevents him.

  
“Don’t you worry about that tough old bird, he’s fine” Chad dismisses, still dragging Misha towards a closed door.

  
“ _Chad_!” Jensen yells with a deadly intensity, enough to stop the blond man in his tracks. Misha quickly ducks out from underneath the man’s arm and nearly runs back towards Jensen. His green eyes are on fire, no one gets under his skin quite like Chad.

  
“Jensen. Relax” Chad rolls his eyes “You’re scaring Misha” The blond man gestures to the pair of blue eyes peeking out at him from behind Jensen’s shoulder as Jensen gapes in disbelief. “Fine” Chad huffs with a whine, “both of you…come on” He rolls his squinted eyes, an incredible feat really, and waves them to come.

  
Jensen glares but follows with Misha not giving him up as a shield. The boisterous nature of the doctor is overwhelming to the man, yet fascinating at the same time. Jensen grumbles under his breath. The green eyed soldier has a hard time handling Chad on a good day, but protectiveness surges through him towards Misha and he just _can’t_ deal with this right now.

  
“Shirt off, Ackles” Chad grumps, enthusiasm gone from his tone as the door to an exam room closes behind the trio. The doctor turns to a sink, opening and closing door and drawers, digging for a collection of tools that are plainly unfamiliar to the former slave. Osric always used the burning salve and that healed almost anything. The tools Chad is throwing, loudly, onto the tray in front of him, look like torture devices. Misha eyes the tray skeptically, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Chad.

  
Jensen seems unconcerned, so Misha merely watches as the soldier strips out his shirt. He can’t help but stare at the expanse of pale and lightly freckled skin on display in front of him. Jensen is clearly fit, the faint outline of pectorals and a sharp V disappearing into the waistband of his pants. His stomach is toned, but still a little soft and Misha can’t quite drag his eyes away.

  
“You can eat him up later, blue eyes. Let me fix him first” The doctor smirks and Misha squeaks, turning a deep shade of crimson that reaches the tips of his ears. Jensen bites back a laugh as Misha ducks his head and throws himself into the chair in the corner in his embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands.

  
“Jensen, I…sorry” Misha lets out in a rush, voice going high and worried. Jensen can’t help but let out a full bellied laugh at the man’s embarrassment.

  
S’Ok man. Not like I didn’t get an eyeful yesterday” Jensen winks and grins towards Misha as Chad roars with laughter. Misha wants to melt into the floor. He wants to run from the room screaming but doesn’t know where to run to, so he shrinks further into the chair and tries to disappear.

  
“Alright guys, sit still. Don’t want Jensen to have crooked stitches here” Chad suddenly goes serious, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth in concentration as he snaps gloves onto his freshly scrubbed hands.

  
The doctor sets to work, barely saying a word until a neat row of tiny little stitches appear on Jensen’s arm, closing the wound. Misha looks on, confused and wondering why Chad just doesn’t use the healing salve that Osric had used so many time on Misha himself. Do human doctors not have any? He wants to ask, but doesn’t dare while Chad is actually being quiet and acting like he forgot Misha was there.

  
“Alright, Jenny. You’re done” Chad claps Jensen’s arm, right above the new stitches, causing the man to wince at the sudden rush of pain. He grins at his accomplishment as he puts his tools away.

  
Jensen grumbles as he hops off the table, eyeing his bloody shirt and not really wanting to put it back on but not having anything else. He swears, next time Chad calls him _Jenny_ he might just kill the man. Maybe not in front of Misha though.

  
“Alright new guy. You’re up!” Chad interrupts Jensen’s grumbling a little too enthusiastically, even clapping his hands together before gesturing Misha towards the table.

  
“Me?” Misha squeaks, he didn’t think Chad actually wanted to _do_ anything with him. His eyes fly to Jensen, seeking confirmation and trying really hard to avoid looking at Jensen’s bare chest at the man walks towards him.

  
Jensen nods, offering Misha a hand to help him up. Misha takes it, but is careful to keep space between them now that Jensen is still only half clothed. “Go ahead” Jensen says softly, “He knows I’ll kill him if he isn’t on his _best_ behavior” He adds a little louder, ensuring that Chad hears him “Or if he doesn’t find me a shirt!”. Jensen smirks even as Misha questions him silently. Misha is not at all sure about letting Chad near him.

Jensen gives him a nudge “It’s ok” He whispers in Misha’s ear soothingly.

  
“Ugh. Fine _Jensen_. Here” Chad opens a drawer and chucks what appears to be a T-shirt at Jensen’s head. “Just thought lover boy here was enjoying the view”.

  
“Murray, I swear to God if you…” Jensen threatens before Chad holds his hands up in surrender and vows to behave. Chad continues to mumble under his breath, loud enough to be heard but soft enough to be ignored.

  
The soldier managed to catch the shirt with his good arm and quickly shrugs it on. He only winces a little as the stitches on his arm pull and stretch with the movement. Misha blushes furiously again, having been caught staring. Again.

  
Misha decides to force himself to be brave and get up on the table, swallowing back his embarrassment. He stares at Chad now, the doctor pulling up a rolling stool and plopping himself down on it in front of Misha with his clipboard. The other man writes in silence for a moment, the scratching of his pen the only real sound in the room. Chad clears his throat noisily, and Jensen’s gaze shoots up to watch his not quite friend. This level of seriousness is a new side of Chad.

  
“Alright, Misha. I’m going to ask you some questions. You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, but it will help me know how to help you if you do. I’d also like to draw some blood for testing and take some X-Rays and photographs if you’ll allow it.” Chad pauses, narrow eyes meeting Misha’s wide ones. Chad takes the other man’s silence as consent to continue.

  
“Now. The first question. Do you want Jensen here for this?” He holds his hand up, asking for silence when Misha immediately begins to protest the idea of Jensen leaving and Jensen practically growls at the idea of being thrown out. “Some of the things I need to ask might be difficult. Jensen can be here if YOU want him here, but he doesn’t have to be. It’s your choice Misha, not his. Not mine. Yours. Do you understand?” Chad continues, voicing over Misha’s half panicked pleas to keep Jensen here.

  
Jensen looks on, impressed with the doctor’s seriousness. It’s almost creepy. Even when Jensen had been hurt so badly the year before and spent months healing under Chad’s care, the blond doctor never acted quite like this. At least not that Jensen was awake to see.

  
Misha nods vehemently at Chad and meets eyes with Jensen. The green eyed man seems to understand what’s going on and has calmed since Chad first broached the subject and offers Misha a small smile. “I, I want him. Here” Misha mutters, quickly tacking on the _here_ when he see’s a smirk start to form on Chad’s face.

  
“Oh, I can see that you _want_  him sweetheart” Too late, Chad’s smirk turns into a full blown grin as he waggles his eyebrows at the dark haired man on his table. Misha tucks his head down, the tips of his ears turning red again at his blunder.

  
“Quit being an ass, Murray!” Jensen gripes from his corner chair. He knew the serious attitude could only last for so long. He wants very badly to go sit beside Misha and offer his support, but he knows better than to give Chad any ammunition. He knows the doctor means well and is generally harmless, but Jensen is used to his antics, Misha isn’t.

  
“I call it like I see it man. You’re practically going cave man over this guy too you know!” Chad spins on his stool, pointing at Jensen with a scowl. Chad doesn’t have a problem with their obvious attraction, but he will not have Jensen brush it under the rug like it’s nothing. Chad knows Jensen better than he’d like to admit, and he knows that the man is excellent at self denial and being oblivious to how he affects other people. He will not let his best friend’s other best friend hurt Misha and more than he already is.

  
“Alright, Jenny can stay” Chad spins back to Misha, the man still has his face hidden in his hands but the redness is starting to recede from his ears. “Just remember, everything we do here is YOUR choice. You can say no at any time” Chad forces his eyes open further than normal and waits for Misha to acknowledge him. It takes the dark haired man a few moments, but he eventually nods his agreement.

  
“Ok, first off. Do you presently have any pain or injuries? Even if its just a bruise, I want to know about it.” Chad asks, scratching down more on his clipboard.

  
Misha shakes his head when Chad glances up. Osric had done a good job of healing him just before the Emissary’s arrival. “He has some bruises” Jensen says quietly from his corner, staring at the corner behind Misha and avoiding pair of startled blue gazes that quickly point his direction.

  
“Jensen, I’m asking _Misha_ the questions, not you” Chad admonishes with a heatless glare. “Is that true Misha? You have bruises?” Chad turns back to Misha, hoping that the other man starts to relax soon.

  
Misha nods fractionally. “Where?” Chad inquires gently.

  
“Everywhere. It’s okay though, doesn’t hurt” Misha mumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

  
“Would you mind taking your shirt off?” Chad asks cautiously, searching Misha’s posture for any sign that he should be concerned. Misha shrugs again and silently starts undoing the buttons holding the too big shirt closed.

  
Chad patiently waits, allowing Misha all the time he needs and purposefully looks down at his clipboard while the man undresses. He hears the rustle of fabric and looks up just in time to hear Jensen gasp behind him. The bruises are worse than when Jensen last got a good look. Are they new? Did their escape cause this? “Those bruises are a lot worse than when I first saw them” Jensen worriedly informs Chad, he doesn’t care if he’s speaking out of turn.

  
Chad takes in the other man’s colorful torso, streaks of deep purple accented with the yellows and green of older bruises. The man’s ribs stick out, he’s obviously malnourished and Chad barely suppresses the groan that threatens to escape his mouth. That baggy shirt was hiding a lot. “Well, malnutrition will do that” Chad mutters out like Jensen is an idiot.

  
“And, that answers my next question” Chad presses his lips into a fine line as he takes his notes. “Would you mind stepping up onto the scale?” He gestures to the corner where a small platform sits on the floor. Misha gets to his feet and Chad finally notices the man isn’t even wearing socks. As Misha walks over to the scale, Chad rummages in his drawer for something for Misha's feet.

  
“How often have you been eating? And how much?” Chad asks, handing Misha the socks after writing down the too low numbers of his weight.

  
“Once every few days lately. It wasn’t always so little but, I’ve eaten twice in the last day or so though” Misha flashes a quick smile towards Jensen, his recent luck with food has everything to do with the green eyed man’s arrival into his life.

  
“That’s good at least. I think when we’re done here, you two should head to the mess” Chad says, turning to Jensen. “I want to see Misha back tomorrow. I think we’re going to try to get daily weights for a while. The last thing I want for today are some x-rays and blood samples” Chad explains, not telling him how much weight he’d like to see the other man gain, he doesn’t want to push Misha too far right now. He’s been through enough. Jensen nods, happily agreeing to taking the other man to get some food.

  
The X-rays go quickly, revealing the healed lines of old broken bones but nothing that hasn’t healed. Chad makes a note to ask Misha about his injuries later.

  
“Why do you want a blood sample?” Jensen asks, seeing the unspoken question in Misha’s eyes and deciding to ask for him. Chad seems to understand, because he answers the question as if Misha had asked it, instead of giving Jensen a lecture on how to shut his pie hole.

  
“I suspect you’re malnourished, this will confirm and show me what supplements you need. It will also give me a good picture of your general health. And, if you allow it, I can have your DNA tested against any missing person reports. See if you have a family out there somewhere?” Chad adds on the last part cautiously, he suspects that Misha was probably kidnapped as a small child but he can’t be certain. It’s possible that he was sold. He doesn’t know much about the man yet, and he doesn’t want to get too in depth today. Pushing too hard might make his obvious anxiety worse.

  
Misha’s eyes widen. He hadn’t even considered that he might have family somewhere. He had never even entertained the idea of having a mom or dad, or even brothers or sisters. “Family?” He barely whispers, a sudden worry rushes through him causing his heart to pound in his chest. What if they don’t want him anymore? What if they didn’t want him to begin with? “No” He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to know. It’s better not knowing.

  
Chad nods sadly at him. “Ok. If you change your mind, we can run the test at any point. Ok?” He was hoping Misha would go for it, but he can’t force the man or go behind his back. At least not until he’s ordered to.

  
Misha nods, clutching the still unbuttoned shirt tight around him. “Alright. That’s enough for today, you’re not in imminent danger of collapsing. Off you go now chickadee! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Chad smirks, regaining his boisterous and obnoxious level of excitement as he hops to his feet. “Chickpea? No…Goose? No…no birds” Chad continues his mumbles after his dismissal of the two other men.

  
Misha narrows his eyes at the man, cocking his head in puzzlement in trying to figure out what he means by that. Jensen lets out a snort and shakes his head. Misha isn’t as concerned by Chad’s behavior anymore, he thinks that maybe he almost likes the strange doctor. So far, humans seem better than the Baael at least.

  
“Come on Misha, lets go get some chow” Jensen stands, stretching so that the shirt he’s wearing rides up just enough for Misha to catch a glimpse at a strip of Jensen’s belly. He looks away quickly, not wanting to be caught staring, again. Jensen notices but doesn’t say anything, just smiles a little to himself. He doubts Misha is actually interested in him, after all he’s been though Jensen would be surprised if he ever wants to be with someone like that. He’s willing to bet that Misha is just curious and enthralled by everything new going on around him. Hell, even being around other humans has got to be strange.

  
Misha trails Jensen out of the exam room, leaving Chad to his clipboard. The dark haired man is curious about what Chad had been writing down, he assumes its about him but can’t bring himself to ask. He doesn’t want to do anything that might make them send him back. Jensen seems intent on keeping Misha with him, but will he once Chad confirms he’s Omega? That he’s less than human?

  
“Hold on a sec, I need to talk to Chad for a minute” Jensen turns back, urging Misha to wait for him. No one else is in the hospital area that he can see, so he nods his agreement and leans against the wall. He’s so tired. His eyes droop slightly and he allows them to slide closed. Just for a minute.

  
“Hey, Chad” Jensen waits until the door clicks closed behind him.

  
“Uh?” Chad looks up, pen stuck between his teeth like a dog with a bone as he squints towards Jensen. He reaches for the pen, pulling it from his mouth and clicking it annoyingly. The green eyed man steadfastly ignores the doctor’s annoying habit, refusing to let the man push any more of his buttons.

  
“Before we got him out, Misha mentioned something to me that I think you should know? He kinda freaked out about it so I didn’t want to bring it up in front of him again” Jensen reaches a hand to scrub the back of his neck. He pulls his lips up to a nervous smile, he doesn’t like going behind Misha’s back but he doesn’t know what else to do.

  
“Oh really?” Chad is intrigued and stops his clicking, opting instead to chew on the button end of the pen. He eyes Jensen skeptically, also not happy about keeping secrets from the man he just met. Normally he wouldn’t care, but he tends to get hung up on the whole doctor-patient thing.

  
“He told me that he’s Omega” Jensen lets the words settle on the blond man and Chad’s eyes widen to almost what a normal person’s look like. The doctor’s jaw drops open slightly and he scribbles furiously on his notebook.

  
“That’s impossible” Chad says flatly, but he’s already adding another blood test to his order just in case those devils did something to him.

  
“I know” Jensen nods. “But _he_ believes it. I think he’s afraid that he isn’t human” Jensen explains, picking at a fingernail and trying to not look at Chad.

  
“And I’m guessing he’s afraid we’ll send him back if he isn’t?” Chad fills in the silence.

  
Jensen nods. “Can you help me convince him?” He asks hopefully, locking eyes with his not quite friend.

  
“Yeah. I’ll add chromosome testing to his bloodwork and give him an MRI tomorrow. Figure out how to tell him without worrying him. You’ll come back with him right? My professional opinion is that he’s formed an attachment to you. Like a duckling to its mother.” Chad makes more notes before looking up at Jensen hopefully. Chad is good at being a joker, at being an ass and pushing everyone to their very last nerve; but he still knows when he needs to serious. That is the only reason why Jensen puts up with the man. That and he’s one of Jared’s best friends.

  
“You’re saying he thinks I'm his mother?” Jensen looks at Chad incredulously.

"No dumbass" Chad sighs dramatically, "More like imprinted" He rolls his eyes at his idiot friend.

"Imprinted? Seriously?" Jensen is surprised. He realizes Misha does seem attached to him, but he hadn't thought of it like that.

  
“Well yeah. You’re his knight in shining armor” Chad brings his hands folded together up to his chin and cocks his head at Jensen while blinking dramatically. 

  
“He is not some damsel in distress!” Jensen bites back with very little heat to his voice.

  
“No” Chad says thoughtfully. "More like a Prince in distress rescued by his damsel!" Chad makes kissy faces at Jensen before the other man gives him a half hearted shove.

"I am not a damsel!"

“Ugh. Fine. You can both be Princes! But don’t you dare hurt him!” Chad demands seriously, stabbing a finger into Jensen’s chest.

  
“I won’t. And assuming Day allows it, I’ll be here” Jensen concedes, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Thank you, Chad” Jensen says quietly, slipping out the door and rejoining Misha.

  
Jensen finds Misha huddled on the floor along the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest with his arms hugging around them and his forehead resting on the tops of his knees. “Misha?” Jensen worries. Did Misha over hear him and Chad? Misha doesn’t respond, or move. Jensen crouches down to touch his new friend’s shoulder and is rewarded with a soft snuffle. Jensen smiles when he realizes that Misha fell asleep.

  
“Hey buddy, wake up” Jensen gently nudges the sleeping man’s shoulder and he jolts awake, scrambling to his knees and pressing his forehead to the hard floor.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” The dark haired man chants, fear coloring his tone. Jensen hits his knees beside him, trying to pull the man up by his shoulders and snap him out of this.

  
“Misha, you’re safe. Remember?” He pleads with the man, trying and mostly failing to stay calm. Misha freezes, breathing forced and heavy but he falls silent.

  
Jensen feels the tension drain from the other man’s body with a loud breath out just before he falls closer to the floor with a groan. The green eyed man hears the door click open behind them and glances up to see Chad watching wide eyed and silently questioning. Jensen shoos him away, he doesn’t want Misha to be any more embarrassed than he already is.

  
_We need to talk about this_ Chad mouths to Jensen, knowing better than to inform Misha of his presence. The doctor feels like he just walked in on something intensely private and worrisome, but he trusts Jensen to handle it. He seems to have an uncommon protective sense towards his charge, and Misha seems to trust him. Jensen nods firmly before turning back to Misha, who is still not moving from his prone position.

  
“It’s alright Misha, come on. Lets just go to my quarters. Come on, you’re ok” Jensen coos, rubbing a hand in comforting circles on the other man’s back. Misha isn’t really listening, he sits up with a groan, his blue eyes rimmed in red from tears that he is refusing to shed. Jensen fights the urge to wrap his arms around the man, but he isn’t sure forcing himself on the former slave would be a good idea.

  
“Jensen” Misha half wails, wallowing in shame and pity at his outburst. He was dreaming of the Prince, he forgot where he was. He forgot that he was safe. “I’m sorry” He loses his battle not to cry, the excitement of the last two days catching up with him all at once. It leaves his body in a deluge of tears as he wraps his arms tight around himself. He turns to press his head against the wall, away from Jensen and continues to shake as his eyes drip huge salty streaks of water down his cheeks.

  
“Hey, it’s ok. Shhh. You’re going to be ok. Nothin to be sorry about” Jensen draws his hand back since Misha turned away. He fights panic himself, he just doesn’t know what to do! “Look at me. Misha. Look at me” He commands softly, needing to see the man’s beautiful eyes. He puts a hand on the other man’s shoulder, trying to comfort without pushing but he feels so useless right now.

  
Misha sniffs hard and risks a glance at the other man. He expects to see disgust and regret etched in his features, his breath catches with renewed sobs when he see’s those green eyes watering with sympathy.

  
“Hey, its ok” Jensen breathes out, nearly trembling with the urge to touch but not daring.

  
Misha straightens, trying to get himself under control. He wants so badly for Jensen to take him in his arms and protect him. But Jensen doesn’t want that, he’s sure of it. Jensen is a big, strong, soldier. What could he want to do with a weak Omega like him? He’s probably just here because he feels obligated. He takes a deep breath, wiping his face with his sleeve and tries to force a smile. “Sorry” He mutters, steeling himself against the sinking feeling in his stomach. It isn’t his place to get attached and he’s sure that Jensen will be passing him off to someone else soon.

  
"You ok?" Jensen asks, breathing out a sigh of relief at the man's recovery. Misha nods and forces himself to his feet, trying not to look Jensen in the eye. Jensen quickly follows. "You wanna go eat? Or we could go to my quarters if you just want some peace and quiet? Maybe a nap if you're tired?" Jensen hurriedly offers, nearly falling all over himself.

  
"Your quarters?" Misha cocks his head back in surprise, his eyes frantically searching Jensen's for meaning.

  
"Yeah, it’s quiet. If, if you want some alone time?" Jensen worries his lower lip, not wanting to leave the other man's side but he also doesn't want to assume that Misha wants to be with him every minute of every day.

  
"Alone time?" Misha squeaks. This is it, Jensen doesn't want him. He wants to get rid of him.

  
"Yeah, if you want" Jensen shrugs, trying not to act like leaving Misha is alone is the last thing he wants to do.

  
"Alone time sounds good" Misha nods, he won't force himself on Jensen. He's grateful for everything Jensen has done for him, he won't ask for more.

  
"Oh. OK" Jensen scratches the back of his head. "This way then" He swallows hard, trying to not take it personally.

  
"I'll take you to my room for now, not sure where Commander Day is going to want to place you until we can get you transport to Earth. I'm sure she'll want to meet with us later" Jensen chews his lip at the mention of  _us_. Misha follows just half a step behind him, trailing closely even though the hall is wide and nearly deserted.

  
As they get closer to the mess hall, they see more and more people. Jensen can feel Misha draw closer as people give him curious looks when they pass and he fights the smug smile that tries to plant itself on his face. That's right, the new guy is with me. He feels slightly ashamed at his possessive feelings, but he'll take what he can get.

  
"Almost there" He mutters when Misha bumps into him as they slow to turn a corner, the crowded hallway making the other man nervous. Jensen reaches out to rest a hand on Misha's lower back before he catches himself as they come to a stop outside his door.

  
Misha startles slightly when Jensen lays his hand on him, but he quickly recovers and can't help leaning into the touch. Maybe he was wrong about Jensen wanting to get rid of him? Or maybe this is just how humans are? He's afraid to ask.

  
Jensen was about to pull his hand away quickly when he realized what he was doing, but then Misha leaned in. He seems to want the touch? Jensen hurriedly presses the code and the door beeps open. He clears his throat slightly before guiding Misha forward and into the room.

  
"It's, uh, small; but no one will bother us. You." Jensen scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, again, before he catches himself. He feels like an idiot around this man. His eyes linger on the blue eyes, before falling slightly to barely parted lips and further down to the Adam's apple that bobs with the other man's heavy swallowing. Jensen closes his eyes, forcing a swallow himself. He knows he just got caught staring. Misha must think he's some sort of pervert. "Sorry, I just..."

  
Misha quickly steps into Jensen's space, acting on a fleeting sense of bravery. Chad so casually blurted out what Misha had been feeling, and when Jensen was staring at him just then he thought that maybe Jensen wanted him to. He quickly presses his lips against the other man's, his first attempt at initiating a kiss, before he loses his nerve. He feels Jensen freeze and stiffen, words dying in his throat as Misha fists his hands in Jensen's shirt.

  
Misha starts to draw back, discouraged by Jensen's frozen stance. Maybe he made a mistake. Oh crap, he made a mistake. A big, big mistake. Panic rises in his throat, he's about to break down in apology when Jensen grips his elbow, holding him in place. Misha's chest heaves in panic and he struggles to pull away.

  
Suddenly Jensen is kissing him back, pressing firmly into Misha's lips as his grip on the man's elbow tightens. Misha kissed him. _Misha is kissing him._ Jensen temporarily forgets what he should be doing, all thoughts consumed by those slightly chapped but still soft lips on his own as desperate hands fist in his shirt and pull Jensen closer. Jensen is sure he’s going to hell for taking this.

  
He finally comes to his senses, drawing his lips away from the darker haired man's and presses their foreheads together. Both men breathe heavily, both from excitement and the emotional toll the roller coaster their life has been over the last two days. Jensen can't bring himself to pull away even though he knows he should. He wants to be selfish for a minute.

  
"Please, don't get rid of me" Misha whispers, giving voice to his fears. He _knows_ that he's not a slave here, but he still _feels_ like one and he's terrified of being abandoned.

  
"Is that what this was about?" Jensen whispers, his voice high and pained. The thought that Misha kissed him because he felt he had to cuts thought him like a knife. Chad was right, Misha is attached. _Imprinted_. It isn’t real.

  
Misha draws away, shame coursing through him. Now Jensen thinks that he was acting the slave, trying to please his master. He doesn't see Jensen like that! He shakes his head, no, but can't bring himself to meet Jensen's eyes.

  
"What then?" Jensen asks, his voice a hopeful prayer that expects heartbroken sadness. He watches Misha intently, unsure whether the other man will speak or if words will continue to escape him. He's greeted by silence that makes his heart sink. "Misha, don't kiss me because you feel like you have to. You don't. I don’t want that. I'm not going to leave you, no matter what" Jensen promises.

  
Misha can’t find his voice. He wants to tell Jensen so many things but the words just won’t come. His eyes well with unshed tears. He just ruined everything.

  
“I can’t. Please. I can’t, unless it’s real. Get some rest, I’ll be back later” Jensen manages to mumble through the lump in his throat. He swallows hard, feeling the tight burn of the muscles in his throat protesting the action. He has to get out of here.

  
The door clicks behind Jensen and he stands on the other side of it for a moment trying to collect himself. He rubs a hand across his face, fingers lingering on his lips that still taste faintly of the other man.

  
Misha stands in the empty room, unable to move from the spot Jensen left him in. He feels more alone than he ever has. Jensen promised he wouldn’t leave, and then he left. Because Misha couldn’t say the words he needed.

  
“You’re the first I’ve ever _wanted_ ” The blue eyed man whispers to no one. “It is real”


	7. Searching

Jensen wanders the corridors of the ship, unsure of where to go with Misha in his room. He lost his appetite after the incident with the kiss. His lips still tingle slightly where the other man had touched and Jensen can’t shake the feeling that he most certainly screwed that up somehow. But how can he be selfish enough to take what Misha is offering when the other man will just regret it once he comes to his senses? 

“Ackles!” Jensen’s thoughts are interrupted by a shout from his friend. He turns to see Christian striding towards him. “Day wants to see... _what_ _did you do?!”_ Christian starts but changes gears once he’s close enough to see the look of self hatred plastered on his friend’s face. He knows Jensen well enough to know that he’s beating himself up about something. “Where’s Misha?” He asks worriedly. He thought for certain that the man would still be attached to Jensen at the hip. 

“Misha’s resting” Jensen breathes out, ignoring the first of his friends questions and slumping against the wall as he scrubs a hand across his face. “Day wants to see me?” Jensen tries to divert his friend’s hawk like attention. 

“Yeah. She wants a briefing. I told her most of it, but apparently the Baael were in an uproar over our departure and the Prince has accused us of stealing his property, Sheppard is dead and they’re blaming us” Christian smirks, knowing that claim won’t get him anywhere after the treaty they formed with the King.  

“Why am I not surprised? That slimy bastard doesn’t have the good sense shut up” Jensen snorts, shaking his head. “Is Day in the Command Center? I should probably just get it over with” He sighs, not really wanting to talk to his Commander but he knows he needs to. He’s both curious and nervous about what is going to happen with Misha. 

“Yeah. I was actually looking for you, she’s waiting” Christian shrugs. “Where is Misha anyways? You said he’s resting? You didn’t leave him with Chad did you?!” Christian asks, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. 

“I left him in my quarters. Didn’t know where else to put him for now” Jensen shrugs, trying not to think of the fact that Misha is probably curled up in Jensen’s bed right now. Or, at least Jensen hopes he is and not sitting on the floor. 

“Huh” Christian huffs, sounding half surprised and half annoyed. “You’d better be careful with that. I know you Jensen” He points at his friend for effect but there is no heat to his voice. He tips his hat to his Captain and friend before heading further towards the mess hall. 

“I’m trying” Jensen says to his friend’s retreating back. Christian gives no indication that he heard him, but Jensen suspects that he did. 

\--- 

“Commander?” Jensen knocks before opening the door to the Command center enough to ensure that he isn’t interrupting anything. 

“Ackles, come in” Felicia Day stands from her desk as the Captain enters the large room. “At ease” She dismisses him to take a seat. “Christian informed me that you were able to come to a small agreement with the Baael King? And managed to ruffle the Prince’s feathers in the process?” She asks with a raised, skeptical, brow. 

“Yes Ma’am. King Benedict was much more eager to come to an understanding than the Prince.” Jensen admits. 

“And you managed to free a prisoner. It would seem there might be hope for you as a Diplomat yet” She smiles slightly, straightening her stack of papers with a tap to her desk. She had confidence that Jensen would be an acceptable choice for this mission, and he exceeded her expectations. 

“I can’t shake the feeling that the Prince flaunted his prisoner for a reason. He had to have known that we would not approve, nor would his father. He isn’t stupid” That thought has been bothering Jensen since he first walked in that room and saw Misha kneeling on the floor. 

“You think he was planning something?” Commander Day studies her Captain, seeing his direction of thought. The Baael Prince’s action are suspicious indeed. 

“I don’t know. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was trying to provoke us into causing an incident. I believe that the King meeting with us may have spoiled whatever he was planning, although our departure was less than quiet” Jensen gives voice to his suspicions. 

“That may very well be. The Prince is claiming you stole his property and killed one of his officers in your escape, he demands that the prisoner be returned to him and for you and Kane to stand under investigation for both theft and the murder of a Captain Mark Sheppard” The Commander sighs, pressing a hand to her temple. 

“That’s ridiculous! Sheppard shot me, not the other way around!” Jensen hisses, leaning forward in his chair. The Baael Captain was just tranquilized by that doctor, right?  

 She agrees with Jensen, and knows that forming this delicate partnership with the Baael race might very well cause more problems than it’s worth. But, she has her orders. “Kane handed over the documentation of the agreement with Kind Benedict, I will be forwarding them to the council with my daily reports. Until the Council review, you are being removed from active duty. You are to turn in your service weapon immediately for inspection” She sets the stack of papers aside and looks up just in time to silence Jensen’s outrage with a leveled glare. 

“Now, I want your official statement about the prisoner. Misha, right?” She leans forward slightly, eager to hear what her Captain has to say. Christian had raised some concerns regarding their new passenger. 

“He’s been through hell. From what could gather from the man, he’s been severely physically abused and half starved. He was a slave on board that ship, used for the Prince’s entertainment” Jensen reports, uncomfortable talking about Misha like this. He feels like he’s somehow betraying his new friend. 

“Dr. Murray reports is that his professional opinion is that, for now, Misha might to do best if we keep him separated from the rest of the men in a quiet environment. He suggested that he stay with you since the two of you seemed for have formed some sort of bond” Felicia eyes Jensen critically, unsure of the doctor’s opinion. 

“He, he said that?” Jensen is only half surprised; but after Chad’s suggestive behavior earlier and then Misha’s kiss, he isn’t so sure that is the best course of action. 

“He did, and I see no present reason to disregard his opinion. So unless you give me a reason, I would like to assign Misha’s supervision to you. Murray stressed the importance of Misha having someone he can trust, and it appears you’re it.” Commander Day still has not taken her hawk like scrutiny off of Jensen, searching the man for any signs of doubt or unwillingness. 

“Commander, I’m not sure that is the best idea. I’m not trained in how to handle this kind of situation. What if I do more harm than good?” Jensen worries, he feels like he’s been doing nothing but screwing up. 

“The fact that you doubt yourself means that you’ll do fine. Murray reports that you’ve been doing well so far. I see no reason remove him from your care unless you object?” She raises her eyebrow at Jensen questioningly. 

“No, I accept” Jensen quickly confirms. He can’t stand the thought of not seeing the other man again, especially after Jensen’s promise not to abandon him. 

“Good. Consider all your other duties suspended until further notice. I will requisition another bunk to be brought to your quarters. You have yourself a roommate!” Felicia stands, clapping her hands together and Jensen rushes to his feet.  

“I want to meet with him tomorrow morning. For now, get him settled. Here’s your requisitions for bunk and some clothes.” Commander Day quickly fills out two slips of paper and hands them to Jensen. “Dismissed” She returns Jensen’s salute just before the man turns to go. 

Outside, in the hall, Jensen takes another moment to breathe. The fact that Misha is waiting in his room, and is going to be there for a while and the way Jensen just walked out on him with that broken look on his face makes Jensen groan in overwhelming regret. He feels like such an asshole! He’s going to have to deal with this sooner or later. He settles on later and turns to drop off the bunk request first. 

All too soon he finds himself back in front of the door that the most puzzling challenge of his life waits behind. His watch says he’s been gone for two hours. Jensen’s stomach groans uncomfortably, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since the night before. He can only imagine Misha is feeling the same. He raises a hand to knock but ends with his forehead pressed to the door. It’s _his_ room dammit! Why does he feel like he should knock? 

Upon opening his door, he expected darkness, but it seems that every light in the room is on. The bed is empty and untouched, and the chair at the desk unmoved. Where is he? “Misha?” Jensen calls hesitantly, suddenly afraid that maybe the man ventured out on his own. 

Jensen hears a rustle come from the corner and his gaze tracks towards it. He settles on the image of the other man sitting in the floor, his knees drawn up against his chest and his head turned towards the small window near the floor. He doesn’t move or say a word. 

Jensen stares for a moment, not sure what to do or how to apologize. He settles on approaching without another word. He lets himself slide down the wall across from Misha, meeting him at his chosen level. He isn’t close enough to touch, which Jensen can’t but feel is a good thing. 

“You left” Misha mutters without so much as a glance at the other man, still gazing out the small window. 

“Sorry” Jensen whispers. Sad blue eyes turn to meet his at the word. Clearly his small apology is inadequate. “What are you looking at?” Jensen asks quietly, gesturing towards the window that the other man has returned his gaze to. 

“The stars” Misha answers even more quietly. He’s never been allowed to really look like this. There were no windows on Perdition, and before that he was on a planet that was too dusty to see the sky very often. 

“They’re pretty aren’t they?” Jensen tries to ask as a peace offering, still not taking his eyes off of the man across from him. Misha still has his knees drawn up and is avoiding looking at Jensen. 

“I wasn’t lying, earlier.” Jensen starts. “I’m not going anywhere” His excuse feels weak, but he doesn’t know what else to say. 

“It’s ok” Misha lies, still not looking at Jensen. 

“I talked to my Commander. I’m assigned to help you adjust, you’re officially to stay here. With me” Jensen tells him, hoping the news goes over well. It earns him an intense blue gaze that pierces his very soul and leaves him speechless. 

“So I’m an, assignment?” Misha asks, that broken look returning to his face as fears rush through his mind. He was so wrong to have kissed Jensen, the man is just doing his job and Misha had to go make him uncomfortable. Now Jensen has to live with him! He probably hates him. 

“It’s not like that” Jensen suddenly regrets sitting so far away when he see’s those blue eyes welling with tears. He scooches closer but the other man pulls back. “I want you here. I want to help you” Jensen reaches to wipe away a tear from the other man’s cheek but Misha pulls away and scrambles to his feet. 

“You want me here as long as I don’t touch you? Right?” Misha demands of Jensen, leaving the other man sitting on the floor. Every fiber of his being screams this is wrong, that it should be Misha on the floor and Jensen towering over him. But life is different now, right?  

“Misha, I’m sorry. I screwed up. I was scared, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong” Jensen tries to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. He holds his spot on the floor, sensing that Misha needs this moment. 

“You’re scared!?” Misha exclaims both surprised and angered. What does Jensen have to be afraid of?! It wasn’t his world that was suddenly inverted!  

“Yes” Jensen admits again, easier to say the second time around. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you! This all new to me to you know, I don’t know what I’m doing here!” Jensen bites out, causing the other man to flinch. He gets to his feet, unable to stay sitting any longer. He stands facing the other man, both of them breathing heavily. 

“You hurt me when you left” Misha mumbles, giving up his own anger. His words make Jensen deflate. 

“I see that now” Jensen takes a step towards Misha. He feels as if Misha has become the center of his universe and he can’t seem to fight the gravitational pull that seeks to draw him in. 

“Did you mean what you said? About it needing to be real?” Misha dares to ask, terrified of the answer but he needs to know. He regrets Jensen running, but he doesn’t regret kissing him. 

Jensen nods as their gazes catch. He can’t bring himself to speak the words aloud, not trusting his voice. He suspects where Misha is going with this, and Jensen knows that if he gives in that he’ll be handing Misha his heart. He doesn’t think he can be close to this man without falling for him, and he knows it’s going to hurt.  

“I’ve never been allowed to choose before” Misha mumbles, trying to express how difficult this is for him. Misha takes a step forward. 

Jensen forces himself to stay still. His fear makes him want to back away, but he’s more afraid of hurting the other man right now. “You don’t have to” He whispers, shaking his head slightly. 

Misha takes another step, now only inches from the other man who is standing still as stone. Doubt and worry etched in Jensen’s face and Misha can see now what Jensen meant by being afraid. Jensen is afraid of _him_ _,_ not only for him. “I know. But I _want_ to” Misha smiles at the word. He can. He can _want_. And he can act on that want.  

He reaches for Jensen as the man swallows firmly, green eyes wildly searching but otherwise frozen in place. Misha decides then, to wrap his arms tight around the other man and press his cheek against Jensen’s shoulder. He smiles when he feels Jensen release his breath and wrap his own arms around Misha. 

“I don’t regret kissing you” Misha mumbles, needing Jensen to know. Jensen squeezes him a little tighter but doesn’t respond for a moment. 

“I don’t want you to, but we can’t do that again” Jensen tries to say gently, drawing back. He sees a glimmer of reluctant understanding in the other man’s eyes and forces a small smile. “We ok?” Jensen asks hopefully, drawing Misha back to arms length. 

Misha nods and forces a smile. He can do this, he can be ok. All he’s ever had, all he does have, to offer is his body. And Jensen doesn’t want that. He can’t help but feel the stab of disappointment, the feeling of uselessness coursing through him. He wants Jensen, but Jensen doesn’t want him. Maybe his Masters were right, what else is he good for? 

His stomach chooses that moment to announce it’s displeasure at the lack of food. It seems to have gotten spoiled, eating two regular meals in the same day and now it protests a single skipped one. Misha tries to ignore it, but of course Jensen notices. 

Jensen flashes a grin at the sound. “Hungry?” He asks the other man as he walks back to the door.  

Misha nods and follows, eager to please Jensen and move on from their uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t understand Jensen’s reluctance, but he’s somewhat glad that he’s assigned to the other man. At least he doesn’t have to spend time with that crazy doctor, and Christian is a little bit scary. 

The mess hall, as Jensen calls it, is a whole new level of strange as far as Misha is concerned. The scent of food wafts down the hall towards them, drawing them in like the call of a siren. The halls become crowded the closer they get to the tantalizing aroma and Misha tries valiantly to fight his instinct to make himself as small as possible to escape notice. He tries to keep distance between himself and Jensen, but he keeps finding himself nearly touching the other man. 

Jensen doesn’t say a word, but he watches Misha like a hawk. He notices the curious glances cast their way from his fellow shipmates, and he returns some of them with a deadly glare. No one dares approach them, they know Jensen will make good on the silent threats he’s throwing at every curious bystander. Everyone gives the new guy and Jensen a wide berth, although by the way the darker haired man is all but clinging to his guide it doesn’t appear that way. 

“Grab a tray” Jensen directs once they make it to the line after what felt like the longest walk of Misha’s life. Jensen is standing just ahead of the other man in line, and Misha hadn’t dared to presume that he was allowed to touch anything. 

“Hmm?” Misha questions with a hum. He narrows his eyes in confusion. He gets a tray to? 

“Yeah. That’s what the plates go on. You choose what you want, put it on the tray” Jensen encourages, reaching across the other man to pick up a tray and hands it to Misha. He turns on a dime when he hears a snicker behind the dark haired man in line. 

“Got a problem soldier?!” Jensen barks at the soldier behind Misha. The offending man instantly realizes his mistake when the full force of the Captain’s glare falls squarely on him. 

“No Sir” The offender quickly snaps to attention as Misha nearly jumps out of his skin at Jensen’s sudden anger, sending his tray clattering to the floor in the now silent room. “I’m sorry sir” The soldier all but dives to collect the tray, knowing the reputation of Captain Ackles and not daring to find out if the rumors are true. He goes to hand Misha his own tray, keeping the one off the floor for himself. 

Misha relaxes fractionally when he see’s that his new friend’s anger is not directed at him, and warily takes the tray handed to him by the offending soldier and mutters a thanks to him. 

“That’s what I thought” Jensen bites at the soldier with a little less heat than before, but the glare still pointed in his direction is enough to melt the thickest ice.  

They continue through the line, Misha not saying a word but Jensen pointing out what everything is and asking if Misha wants to try it. The darker haired man has no idea what he wants. He’s never been offered choice before and part of him wants to try everything, and another part of his silently pleads that someone else will make the choices for him instead. What if he chooses wrong? 

Halfway through the line and Misha still has nothing on his tray. Jensen watches his hesitancy with growing unease. He doesn't want to just start putting things on the man’s tray, but he’s beginning to fear that he might have to.  

The soldier in line behind Misha has been trying to not even glance towards the dark haired man again for fear of being the target of Captain Ackle’s anger, but he can’t but notice the other man’s unease as well. He had heard rumors as to who this new man is, but none of them are things he cares to repeat. Especially within earshot of Ackles. 

“Excuse me, sir?” The soldier questions Misha and suddenly finds himself staring into wide blue eyes and can feel the burning glare from the Captain trying to turn him to stone. “I, uh…you’re new here right?” He forces himself to continue even as that green eyed glare intensifies. Unearthly blue eyes nod, but they seem to be looking more through him than at him. 

Misha stares at the soldier, as the man uncomfortably shifts in place. He knows without looking that Jensen is staring the man down and Misha himself is very much confused by the man speaking to him.  

“Um, when…when I was new here, this was my favorite. They grow in Florida, where I’m from. Doesn’t look like much here, but it’s really good” The soldier stammers out, holding out a cup of cut up fruit to the strange man with the intense blue eyes. 

Misha reaches out, taking the cup and putting it on his tray. “Thank you?” He says to the other man, not entirely sure what just happened. He notices the soldier smile slightly and feels Jensen’s glare towards the man lessen enough for Misha to find some bravery. “What is it?” He asks the soldier, cocking his head in question. 

“Uh” The soldier stutters, surprised that the other man is speaking to him and he finds the intense blue gaze nearly as intimidating as the renewed scrutiny he’s receiving from Captain Ackles. Whoever this guy is, he must be important. “It’s mango” He manages to get out and the blue eyes go wide in recognition. 

“Mango?” The blue eyed man repeats with a smile and the soldier breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’ve had this before. Thank you!” Misha smiles fully, now more excited than nervous. The soldier smiles back, the other man’s exuberance is catching and he breathes out a sigh of relief at the spotlight of the green eyed glare being removed. He risks a glance at the Captain and is greeted with a terse nod and twitch of a smile.  

Misha has an easier time putting items on his tray after the revelation of mango. He opts for a serving of bright orange carrots and leafy green kale as well as a piece of bread and a fried piece of what Jensen calls chicken that he watched the man put on his own tray. He can’t bring himself to try what Jensen calls mashed potatoes, it looks too much like the gruel he was fed as a slave. A little thicker maybe, but still white and pasty. Why would someone voluntarily eat that? He wrinkles his nose and eyes Jensen skeptically when he watches his friend put a large scoop on his plate next to the chicken. He stares in mild horror when Jensen pours a big scoop of brown liquid all over the potatoes. Jensen calls it gravy, Misha just avoids it. He is no longer sure that he trusts Jensen’s taste in food. 

“Don’t judge us by this food ok? It’s kinda terrible” Jensen disclaims as they sit. Soon they’re joined by Christian, and surrounded by still empty seats. It seems that no one is willing to come near and Misha can’t decide whether he likes the space or if he’s uncomfortable with it. 

“Terrible?” Misha responds, poking at the breaded piece of chicken like it might come to life and bite him. He swallows heavily, unsure about his choice to imitate Jensen after seeing those potatoes. He hazards a bite of carrot, forcing himself to chew slowly as he keeps telling himself that no one is going to take it away. 

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad” Christian rolls his eyes at Jensen’s warning, taking a large bite of the same potato mush that Jensen took. 

Misha swallows, nearly grinning. He thinks he like carrots. Misha opts for the kale next and doesn’t miss the wrinkled nose Jensen gives him at the leafy green pile on his plate. “What?” The blue eyed man asks, pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. 

“Nothin” Jensen shakes his head, trying to force his eyes away but not quite succeeding. He can’t help the grimace that appears on his face just imagining the taste of what his friend is eating. 

Misha’s eyes light up, nearly sparkling as the glorious taste of the kale dances across his tongue. He nearly groans in pleasure and Jensen tries not to gag. 

“Like that one, huh?” Christian asks through a chuckle, amused at both his friend’s disgust and the new man’s delight. 

“Very much so” Misha grins and takes another bite. 

“Ugh. Try this. This is way better” Jensen scoops up a bite of the mashed potatoes onto his fork and offers it to Misha. The other man swallows his mouthful of kale with a gulp, eyeing the potatoes suspiciously. 

He decides to trust Jensen, how bad can one bite really be? Leaning forward towards his new friend; he wraps his lips around the end of the fork, pink tongue darting out slightly to lick him lips after pulling and the breath hitches in Jensen’s throat as he stares.  

Jensen can barely breath, watching Misha eat off his fork is possibly the hottest thing he’s seen in a long time. He feels dirty just for watching, and even worse for the uptick in his pulse and the flush spreading across his cheeks. Why couldn’t Misha have just taken the stupid fork?  

“Hmmm, it’s better than it looks” Misha eyes the potatoes now with interest, still licking the buttery taste off his lips. He notices Jensen staring, but a throaty cough from Christian distracts both men and has Jensen looking straight down at his plate for the rest of the meal. 

Christian mutters something under his breath that neither man can quite hear, but Jensen is pretty sure he’s going to get an earful later.  

They finish the meal in relative quiet, Christian rarely taking his eyes off his friend. Voiceless suspicions stroll through his mind as he considers the other two men through narrowed eyes. He trusts that Jensen won’t do anything stupid, but he isn’t so sure about the other man. 

The halls are less busy when they return to their room later. Misha and Jensen are each carrying an armful of fatigues for Misha, and the man can’t help but stomp slightly in delight with the new boots he was gifted. He’s never worn boots before! The supply sergeant was adamant that Misha always wear clean socks. The socks seemed very important to the man and Misha didn’t dare question, which is why he is now juggling 7 pairs along with everything else. He had tried to argue that it all seemed a bit excessive, but the Sergeant was having none of it and Jensen was absolutely no help in the matter. Misha finally had no choice to accept the piles of clothing, shooting daggers at Jensen’s teasing smile the entire time. 

“What’s that?” Misha questions when he eyes the addition to their room when they return.  

Whoever had delivered the bed had shoved it against the wall next to Jensen’s, and Misha looks at it with confusion. 

“That would be your bed” Jensen replies with a smile. “We can move it wherever you want” He shrugs at the stare being leveled at him by his new friend. Jensen can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth he watches the other man process the information. 

“That’s for me?!” Misha half gasps, shocked that he gets a bed of his very own. Clothes and a bed?! He’s never had that before! He hurries over to it and flops down with childlike excitement, arms full of clothes and all. 

“Whoa, easy there!” Jensen laughs “Gotta put the sheets on it and stuff” His green eyes light up with laughter, crinkles forming in the corners as he throws his head back in laughter at the other man. 

“Can we put it by the window?” Misha asks, thinking how wonderful it would be to lay there and look out at the stars twinkling in the distance.  

“Sure, where ever you want” Jensen grins, pleased to see the other man so happy. 

Misha can’t stop grinning as he tries to help Jensen drag the bed to the other side of Jensen's, right in front of the window so that he can lay on his side and look out at the stars and the dust they leave. For now, he thinks freedom is pretty good. 


	8. Fighting

"Jenny! Misha! Welcome back!" The exuberant Doctor greets when the two men step in to the infirmary. "What took you so long!" Chad whines when he takes a look at the clock. He's been sitting on Misha's blood work results for _hours_ and they have a lot to discuss. 

Misha keeps himself half a step behind Jensen, not entirely trusting this crazy man yet and willing to use just about any excuse to be close to the other man. It takes nearly all of his self restraint to not just plaster himself to Jensen's back like some demented puppy. 

 They spent the morning speaking with Commander Day, and Misha's head is still reeling at the news of Jensen's suspension and investigation. He isn't sure how he feels about Captain Sheppard's death. Part of him thinks he should be glad, but he can't quite muster the feeling. Instead his stomach twists into knots. Both Jensen and the Commander assured him that there is zero chance they will hand him back over to the Baael, but what if the Prince comes after him? And with Jensen and Kane being investigated, what if that goes badly? Jensen doesn't seem concerned, so Misha _tries_ not to be but it is increasingly difficult. 

"Chad" Jensen greets, rolling his eyes at the other man. 

"And how's our puppy this morning? Well, afternoon" Chad peers around Jensen's shoulder to smile at Misha after checking his watch. 

Misha squeaks at the comparison and eyes the doctor questioningly but forces himself to take a step forward to stand next to Jensen. "Fine?" Chad can't read minds can he?  

Chad chuckles a bit. "Alright, come on then" He waves them forward, but heads towards an office instead of the exam room. Misha breathes out a sigh of relief, he couldn't imagine what else Chad would want to look at and he really doesn't want to be poked at now that he has a choice. 

"Your blood work is back, there are a couple of things we need to talk about" The doctor says, taking his seat behind the desk and reaching for a file folder. 

Jensen takes a seat but Misha hangs back hesitantly. _Does he sit to? Does he stand? Kneel? What does Chad want to talk about? Is this where they reject him?_ Questions and thoughts race through his mind like a whirlwind and he stands frozen in place, trying not to panic. 

"Take a seat Sunshine" Chad smiles, but it comes out more like a smirk, gesturing to the last empty chair in the room. Misha glances at the chair, and then to Jensen to confirm. 

Jensen offers Misha a nod, unable to give the man a smile at his hesitancy. Some moments, Misha seems almost normal. Then in the next, he isn't sure whether he's allowed something as simple as a chair. Jensen wants to smile and be helpful, offer simple words of encouragement and generally be perfect in helping the other man; but it's really hard to be all that when his heart clenches in pained sadness at the simple things that Misha seems unable to accept. Like being allowed to sit in a chair. 

"Alright. Time for business" Chad starts, smacking the edge of the file on the desk. "Same question as yesterday Cupcake. Do you want Jensen to be here for this? Remember, everything we do here is up to you." Chad sets the files down and folds his hands in front of him on the desk, eyeing Misha carefully. 

"Can I make _you_ leave?" Misha says quietly, but serious while cocking his head to the side. If Chad wants a puppy...he'll get one. He stares at the doctor as Chad's jaw drops in mock offence. 

"Ugh, you wound me!" Chad claps a hand over his heart dramatically as he falls back against his chair, sending it backwards several inches and nearly tipping over. 

Jensen snorts as he tries to hold back his own laughter and he presses a hand over his mouth to try and keep something resembling a straight face. He turns and watches as Misha fights a laugh, nearly closing his eyes as he loses his battle and doubles over in bubbling laughter. 

“Unfortunately, I come with the room” Chad straightens and squints at Misha, trying his best to be overly serious. Misha’s laughter slows, but his eyes still sparkles with mirth and take on the brightest cerulean Jensen has ever seen. The blue skies of Texas have nothing on those eyes. 

Jensen doesn’t even notice that the laughter has stopped until Chad clears his throat and a pen hits him in the forehead. He quickly turns his glare on his assailant, who is propped up with a second pen ready to fire. “Oww, jerk” Jensen rubs the spot where the pen made contact. 

“Are you done oogling my new best friend?” Chad questions as if he’s exhausted with Jensen and his stupidity.  

“Jared isn’t gonna be happy to hear that” Jensen chides with a smirk. He still can’t help the possessive urge to reach for Misha so he squeezes his knee a little harder to keep his hand in place. 

“Jared who?” Chad questions innocently, sitting up straighter in his chair and folding his hands in front of himself. 

“Who’s Jared?” Misha speaks up, glancing between the two other men. He can’t help wondering who this man is that he’s heard mentioned but hasn’t met. 

“Jared is the only reason I haven’t killed Chad yet” Jensen smirks, grinning at Misha. 

“Jared is, for some idiotic reason, this asshole’s best friend” Chad points his thumb at Jensen with a feigned look of disgust. “What he refuses to accept is that _I’m_ Jared’s best friend” Chad adds in a whisper, shielding his mouth from Jensen’s view as if he’s sharing a secret.  

“No he’s not” Jensen singsongs, dragging out the not and rolling his eyes at Chad. Misha's breath hitches and warmth spreads through his stomach when the other man's tongue peeks out to lick his lips and his laughing green eyes turn towards him.  

Misha forces his gaze away, not wanting to get caught staring again, and glances back and forth between the two men, narrowing his eyes and trying to figure out if they’re joking. He can’t help the snort of laughter that forces itself out at Chad’s scandalized look. 

“Jared will be back in a few days. We’ll settle this then!” Chad points dramatically at Jensen but smiling at Misha. He’s glad to see the man loosen up and relax some and he’ll gladly play along with Jensen and pretend not to notice the way those two looks at each other when they think no one is looking.  

“It’s on Murray!” Jensen gripes back, but the crinkles around his eyes betray his amusement. “Now, about Misha?” He’s enjoying the play back and forth, and enjoying Misha’s laughter even more; but they don’t have all day.  

“Yeah, yeah” Chad waves him off, picking up the file again. “Your blood tests came back” Chad sifts through the papers, searching for the one he wants. “I’ve got some supplements I’d like you to take for a while, but your results were pretty good considering” Chad smiles in Misha’s direction as the man looks at him worriedly. 

“But, there are some numbers that I don’t like the look of” Chad tries not to flinch at Misha’s worried jerk backwards. “Nothing to worry about, but some of your hormone levels are a bit low” Chad glances towards Jensen, silently pleading for the man to stay quiet. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Misha mutters, is biggest fears coming to life. 

“Nothing’s wrong!” Chad quickly speaks over the other man, shooting a quick glare at Jensen. “Your testosterone levels are low, it’s probably why you don’t have facial or body hair. You also have high amounts of progesterone in your system, that shouldn't be there at all really”  

“I’m Omega!” Misha blurts out, unable to keep it secret anymore. He had told Jensen, but Jensen didn’t believe him. He had hoped maybe he could hide it, so they wouldn't send him back, but he was wrong. Chad knows.  

“Try and stay calm” Chad holds his hand out to slow the panic attack he sees building in the other man. “Jensen” He says, eyes urging his friend to help keep Misha calm. 

Jensen quickly scoots out of his chair and stands behind Misha, putting his hands on the other man’s shoulder. “I told you buddy, no matter what. You’re safe here” He leans down to whisper in Misha’s ear. “Everything is going to be ok” Jensen is afraid to tell Misha that there is no way he’s Omega. It’s impossible. But what if Jensen is wrong? What if the slavers did something to change him? 

“Misha. There is an unusually high amount of an androgen blocker in your system, along with a female pregnancy hormone that wouldn't be in an Omega. Were you given any medications on a regular basis?” Chad asks as calmly as possible, but he can see that Misha is on the verge of a breakdown. 

“B…birth control” Misha squeaks out and Jensen squeezes his shoulders. 

Chad nods in understanding. That makes sense given the test results. “Alright, I’m going to be honest with you. You are _not_ Omega. You’ve been given medication that has messed with your hormones levels, but that doesn't make you anything other than a normal human male.” Chad tries to explain without going into doctor speak. “You are not Omega” He adds firmly when Misha tries to protest. 

Tears well in Misha’s eyes, making them appear lighter than usual and Jensen steps around Misha’s side and takes the man’s hand, squeezing it slightly. “I know it’s hard to accept Mish, but its going to be ok” He tries to console. 

“No. You’re wrong. I know what I am” Misha denies, terrified that maybe they’re right. Maybe one of the few things he knows to be true is just a lie. 

“We can do genetic testing or an MRI to be sure but I have no doubts Misha. You are a normal human male. Just like Jensen and I. Once the drugs are out of your system, your levels should adjust to normal” 

“No!” Misha jumps out his chair, torn between fear and anger. He’s always known he’s Omega, it’s the reason he was made a slave in the first place! They have to be wrong. They have to be. “Leave me alone” Misha shoves Jensen away when the man tries to stop him as he storms out the door. 

“Misha!” Jensen calls out to him, making to follow. 

“Leave me alone!” Misha turns and yells, the first time he’s yelled in anything other than pain. Anger. This still hurts and it boils through his veins, tearing him up inside and making him see red. He slams his way out of the infirmary and out into the hallway. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needed out of there. He can faintly hear Chad and Jensen yelling at each other, but Misha doesn’t turn back to see it. 

\--- 

“Jensen!” Chad bites, rushing out from behind his desk to stop the other man from going after Misha. “Jensen!” He grabs Jensen’s arm, forcing him to spin around and face him. He see’s nothing but worry etched in the man’s features but that begins to change when Chad puts his hands on him. “Let him go Jensen” Chad says firmly, forcing eye contact. 

“He shouldn’t be alone!” Jensen tries to pull away but Chad’s grip is too tight. 

“Let him go” Chad tightens his grip, expecting Jensen to fight him “Let him have this” Chad tries to calm his almost friend. “You remember when you were just getting back on your feet, how you and Jared fought about just you using the bathroom by yourself? Do you remember what I told him?” Chad raises his eyebrow, he’s sure Jensen is starting to hear him despite the man glancing nervously at the door. 

“You said I needed control” Jensen remembers “Oh God, this is like that, isn’t it?” He sighs out, beginning to understand what Chad is getting at. Remembering how he felt after months of literally not being able to move, he felt helpless. Powerless. Trapped. He demanded one shred of dignity, one bit of freedom and Jared had fought him every step of the way because he was afraid Jensen would fall and hurt himself. He had hated Jared for that. 

He turns and slumps back in a chair, Misha’s chair, letting out a heavy sigh. It’s still warm from the other man, and Jensen can’t help but settle back in it like it’s the only source of warmth in the room. The image of a very terrified Misha clutching that blanket Jensen had wrapped around his shoulders pops into his mind and he knows the doctor is right, but damn it if he likes it. 

“You’ve been doing alright with him so far. He trusts you. That’s the most important thing right now” Chad tells him, settling back behind the desk.  

"Tell me though, the looks I see you give him? Do I need to worry about that?" Chad questions, raising his eyebrows and trapping Jensen with his half squinted gaze. 

"I...fuck, Chad. I don't know what to do!" Jensen scrubs a hand through his hair, gripping his short dark spikes and pulling. "He kissed me yesterday" He admits, heat flushing his face in embarrassment. 

"And how did that make you feel?" Chad presses his fingertips together on his desk and leans forward. 

"What does it matter? And don't you go psychoanalyzing me!" Jensen warns, straightening in his chair. 

"It matters because how you respond to him matters you dumbass" Chad bites. "Are you so self hating that you're going to push him away?" Chad glares at the moronic green eyed man. 

"I thought _you_ would be telling me to stay away from him!" Jensen blinks in confusion. 

"I'm telling you to trust him to know what he wants"  

"How can I? With what he's been through?" Jensen falls back in his chair and scrubs a hand across his face. 

"Because he isn't a child" Chad shoots Jensen a leveling glare that has Jensen tipping his head back in pained acceptance. He knows that Misha isn't a damned _child._  

“Since when are you so serious?” Jensen asks, rolling his head forward to eye the doctor suspiciously. This just isn’t the Chad that he knows. Even when Jensen was so badly hurt, it seemed to be Chad’s greatest joy to torture him, not push him into a relationship. If that’s even what's going on here. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jenny” Chad says sweetly, giving Jensen an overly innocent smile. 

\--- 

Misha wanders down the hall, half regretting leaving Jensen behind and half proud of himself. The look Jensen gave him, of shocked hurt and confusion, when Misha pushed him way is somewhere between satisfying and heart breaking. Misha doesn’t want to hurt Jensen, he wants just the opposite but he doesn’t want to be coddled either. He’s angry, that much he knows. It’s a new emotion for him, and right now it feels _good._   

Misha wanders, simply putting one foot in front of the other. His stomach rumbles, but he isn’t entirely sure he feels up to braving the mess hall alone yet. He’s terrified that someone will tell him no, that he’ll get in trouble or overstep and all of this will be taken away. He decides it's safer not to risk it. He gets so lost in this thoughts that he loses track of where he is, and by the time he realizes he’s somewhere new, he’s completely lost. 

Great. Now not only are Jensen and Chad probably upset with him, but he’s lost on top of it. He stops in the hall, leaning heavily against the wall and smacks the back of his head on it for good measure. _Stupid_. Stopping was a bad idea. His mind instantly races back towards the news that he isn’t Omega and he wants to shrink down inside of himself. His identity is a lie. Something he’s been told his entire life, something he knows with every fiber of his being, is a lie. He wants to scream and rage, but tears find him instead. He slides down the wall, unable to continue and just sits with his knees drawn up to his chest as he fights back tears. 

“Excuse me? Are you ok?” A voice asks. Misha didn’t even notice the approach of a pair of boots, or someone stopping in front of him. He raises his head just enough to see the shiny black leather reflected in the shiny black floor. “Sir?” The voice sounds concerned, and slightly familiar. 

Misha glances up and takes notice of the same soldier from dinner the night before. The one who offered him the mango. “Yeah, I just….got turned around” He tries to shrug off, tries to be normal despite his heart racing in terror that he’s in trouble. The young soldier doesn’t look angry, so maybe it's ok? 

“Oh, hey. You’re the guy from last night? With Captain Ackles?” The solder recognizes him now, offering Misha a kind but wary smile as if he’s looking around the corner for Jensen to jump out and attack him.  

Misha nods as he makes a quick study of the young man in front of him. He looks younger than Misha, a little taller too with delicate but serious features. He looks like he’s just a kid. “I’m Misha” The blue eyed man offers, deciding this kid doesn’t seem like a threat. 

“I’m Jake” The young soldier offers his hand and Misha tentatively takes it. “Nice to meet you, officially” Jake smiles and Misha feels himself relax slightly. 

“So, are the rumors true? Were you being held prisoner?” Jake asks excitedly, his warm brown eyes lighting up with curiosity. 

“Uh, something like that” Misha hesitates, unsure if he wants to talk about this. “Do you know how to get back to the mess hall?” He asks, trying to divert the attention. 

“Yeah, I’ll walk with you” Jake offers without asking, turning to walk beside the other man. “The rumor mill is going crazy. They’re saying Ackles and Kane went in, guns blazing and broke you out of Perdition. Is that true?” His eyes are blown wide like a little kid on Christmas as Misha looks at him half terrified. 

“Abel!” A gruff shout sounds from down the hall, heated enough to freeze the fires of hell. Misha turns abruptly to see Christian stomping towards them. 

“Yes sir!” Jake snaps to attention at the sight of Lieutenant Kane, his questioning forgotten. 

“You are dismissed” Christian fixes the young soldier with a look of mild disgust and irritation as he comes to halt in front of the two men. 

“Yes Sir!” Jake salutes and turns to go. Anywhere but in the line of fire from the infamous Christian Kane. Rumor has it that the only reason Kane isn’t a Captain is because he can’t hold his temper. They say he once broke a man’s knee caps because he dared to question Kane’s judgment, Jake is not about to test that theory. 

“You ok?” Kane asks once Jake is out of earshot. Misha looks shaken and Christian tries valiantly to not take it out on Abel’s face. 

“Yeah. I just…lost” Misha shrugs, trying to move past his frustrations and shock from Jake’s sudden questions. 

“Uh huh. Where’s Jensen?” Christian asks, cocking his head and letting his icy blue gaze bore into the taller man. Christian likes Misha just fine, but he really shouldn’t be off on his own. 

“I…I needed some space” Misha stumbles, not really wanting to tell Christian that he shoved Jensen and stormed out of the infirmary.  

“Did that asshole hurt you?” Christian demands. His sudden vehemence makes Misha take a step back.  

“N….no” Misha shakes his head, taking another step back despite the frustration rising deep within him. Christian may have helped rescue him, but he still scares Misha a fair bit. The feeling of anger returns to him when confronted with Christian’s aggression. He’s sick of being afraid! He’s sick of being pushed around! His face heats with his frustration and his fists clench at his sides. He forces himself to take  step forward, a step toward the other man.  

Christian studies the other man for a moment, reading the conflicted emotions flitting across the other man’s face like a theater marquee. “Come with me” He says calmly “There’s something I want to show you”. He watches the other man for any sign of dissidence, and when he doesn’t see any he turns and starts walking; leaving Misha to follow. 

Misha stares after Christian’s retreating back for a second, unsure if he really wants to follow the man or not. Curiosity gets the best of him though, and as much as Kane scares him, be does trust the man not to harm him. 

Christian’s lips twitch into a smile when he hears the soft footfalls of the other man following him. He leads Misha to one of his favorite places on the ship, ushering the other man in ahead of him before letting the door slide closed. 

“What is this?” Misha asks, turning in a circle and taking in the strange room. There’s a square arena in the center, surrounding by something resembling a fence. The floors are padded, it appears the walls are to and it reeks of disinfectant and sweat. 

“Take your boots off, you’re not going to need them” Christian instructs as he sits on the bench to remove his own boots. Once Misha complies, and is sitting nervously on the bench  next to Christian, the soldier instructs Misha to straddle the bench and face him. 

“Give me your hand” Christian asks gently, holding out one of his own to collect Misha’s in. “Don’t worry, not gonna hurt you” Christian smirks at the man’s hesitancy, his slightly mocking tone getting him the result that he wants when Misha quickly furrows his brow and all but throws one of his hands into Christian’s. 

Christian sets to work wrapping one of Misha’s hands and then the other. He’s careful to get between and around each finger, and covers each knuckle well. The entire time, Misha studies his expression, half wanting to ask what he’s doing and half afraid to find out.  

Once Christian is done with Misha, he sets to work on his own. Misha feels slightly better now seeing Christian give himself the same treatment, but he is still highly unsure of what’s going on. 

“I get the feeling that you’re frustrated. Angry.” Christian’s icy blue eyes bore into Misha’s softer ones. The taller man starts to protest but Christian simply holds a hand up. “I don’t want you to tell me” He stands, stepping away from the bench. “I want you to show me” Christian gestures for Misha to follow and the man gawks at him confusion. 

Show him? What? Misha follows, too curious now to not find out what Christian brought him here for. 

“Hit me” Christian turns and Misha gasps in shock. _Hit him? What?!_  

Misha stares, open mouthed and completely confused until Christian lands a punch on his shoulder. Misha staggers backwards, the punch enough to offend but not really hurt, and he feels the anger rising above the confusion inside of him.  

"Come on! Hit me!" Christian urges him on, holding up an open palm for Misha to aim for. "Hit me!" He half yells, raising his voice to provoke the other man. 

Before Misha gives his body permission, his closed fist connects with Christian's open palm with a satisfying smack. Christian grins as Misha sees red. "Come on! Harder! Like you mean it!" He goads. 

Misha throws punch after punch, sloppy and frantic as his frustration turns into rage. 

"Think about every time they hurt you" _Smack_   

"Think about every time you couldn't fight back" S _mack._  

"Think about every time they starved you" _Smack._   

Christian goads and his grin grows larger with each hit Misha lands. His hands sting, but this is what he’s good at. 

"Every time they lied to me" Misha grates out, finding his own reasons to keep throwing punches. 

 "Every time they threatened me" _Smack, smack_.  

"Every time I believed them" _Smack._  

 _"_ Square your hips, like this" Christian instructs, demonstrating. _Smack._ "Better, now bend your knees a little" _Smack_ "Good, now bring your arms up. Level with your shoulder. Push straight out" _Smack_. Misha's arms burn and his hands throb but he just can't stop. Tears start streaming down his face but he keeps going. Needing to keep going. 

"Why would they lie to me?!" _Smack_   

"Tell me that I'm something that I’m not" _Smack_  

"Convince me I'm _Omega" Smack_ _Smack_ _Smack_.  

Christian's eyes widen in surprise, Jensen hadn't said anything about _that_ , but he tries not to let his shock show. "They wanted to control you" Christian offers as Misha continues to throw his punches.  

"They wanted you to fear everything" _Smack_   

"Even your own body" _Smack._  

"You couldn't fight them" _Smack_  

 _"_ You had no control" _Smack_  

Misha’s tears flow heavily and his voice refuses to work. His throat burns with the effort and emotions coursing through him. Years of poison working its way to the surface, years of hurt and hopelessness coming forward all at once. He grunts with each punch, and each grunt becomes more and more of a scream. 

 _"_ You survived all this time, don't let them win now. Come on!" Christian goads when Misha starts to slow, tears overcoming his ability to see the man standing in front of him as the strength leaves his body and he hit his knees hard on the padded floor. He leans forward onto his hands and knees, his stomach threatening to heave up what little might be left of his breakfast. He really enjoyed those eggs, but he’d prefer not to see them again. 

It feels like he sobs for hours, and Christian waits patiently while he encourages Misha to let it all out. 

Misha kneels there, sobbing as all of the anger and frustration leaves his body in a wet deluge. He forces himself to breathe through the hurt, through the relief, as Christian crouches in front of him. Slowly his sobs turn into manic and disbelieving laughter. 

"I can teach you. How to fight back, how to defend yourself" Christian offers, reaching a hand out to tilt Misha's chin up to meet his gaze. The tearful man nods. Yes. He wants to learn. 

Christian smiles brightly. "Good. Let's get you cleaned up and go get something to eat" He stands and offers the man a hand up. Misha smiles through his tears as Christian pulls him to his feet. He feels lighter inside, cleansed, and for the first time he feels like he can _do_ something about his life. 

"Did I do that?" Misha points to the reddening mark on Christian's jaw with a look of mild horror. He was so caught up in his anger that he didn't realize he actually hit Christian other than his hands. He feels a pang of regret course through him, he didn't want to hurt the man. 

"No big deal" Christian shrugs with a grin. "I think you've got potential man, gonna make a fighter out of you yet" He punches the man's shoulder playfully as Misha grins at the compliments.  

They make their way back to the mess hall in companionable silence, occasionally sharing a quick grin. Misha can’t believe how much _better_ he feels. 

"Where have you been?!" Jensen gasps out when he sees Christian and Misha headed towards the mess. He had just checked their room for about the tenth time looking for the man, his heart beating hard in worry that something might have happened. "And what happened to your face?" Jensen ask when he sees the blooming redness marring Christian's cheek. 

"Mish and I were just having some fun" Christian grins and throws an arm over Misha's shoulders in camaraderie. Misha's grin is bright enough to light the eastern seaboard and Jensen has no hope of holding on to his worry at the sight of those bright blue eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 

"Were you now?" Jensen eyes his friend with suspicion. He knows what Christian considers fun, but Misha doesn't seem any worse for wear. He actually seems better, less stressed and more relaxed. "You were showing Misha how to fight then?" He really doesn't want to act like an overbearing parent, but he worries. 

"Yeah. Christian's going to teach me" Misha's smile dims slightly as he wars within himself to ask Jensen if that’s alright. He decides to chance not asking, he supposed to be free to do what he wants. Right?  

"Sounds like a good idea" Jensen can't help his own smile in answer to the way Misha lights up with the approval. Learning how to defend himself might help Misha feel more in control. And there is no one better to teach him than Christian Kane.


	9. Nightmares

Days pass and Misha has a hard time sleeping. During the day, when they’re busy with appointments and other things to help Misha learn about being free, he’s ok. But when the dark stillness of night comes, and Misha is alone in his bed, the fear and uncertainty catch up with him. The stars speak to him to fill the silence as he watches the swirling patterns of dust in the distance. Jensen calls it the Milky Way, that ribbon of clouded dust in the distance. Jensen also calls it home and each day their large ship approaches closer. 

Another week and the two of them will board a transport to Earth. The transport is still a large ship, but not as large as the station they’re currently on. Misha has been afraid to ask what happens when they arrive on Earth. He suspects that he will be poked and prodded at by the Doctors there and the idea scares him. Chad does enough of that as it is. What if he's expected to venture out on his own? He feels OK under the watchful eyes of his new friends, even Chad, but the idea of being alone scares him. Jensen said he's going home, to a place called Texas. What will happen when Jensen retires and no longer has to be there for him? 

His nightly reel of worries is interrupted by a groan from the bed across the room. In the dim light he can see Jensen’s shape tossing fitfully and Misha takes up watching the other man's troubled sleep. He’s noticed Jensen sometimes make noises in his sleep, but usually they stop after a few moments. Tonight though, the man keeps growing progressively louder. Misha decides to take action when he hears his friend whimpering and muttering _no_ over and over again.  

He slips out of his bed, silently padding over to Jensen’s side. He stares down at the troubled soldier for a moment, trying to decide what to do. The other man’s forehead is pinched in worry and his lips red and swollen from pulling and chewing them between his teeth. He hesitantly shakes Jensen’s shoulder, marveling in the soft warmth underneath his fingers, urging the man awake. “Jensen” He nearly hisses, shaking slightly harder. Misha tightens his grip on the man’s shoulder when he doesn’t respond. “Jensen, wake up” He mutters, leaning over his friend close enough to breath in the light and clean scent of the soap he used just hours before. Misha notices the light sheen of sweat collecting on the other man's brow as his face tenses and his head shifts back and forth.   

Jensen’s eyes suddenly snap open, unseeing and sharp pain blooms across Misha’s face as Jensen lashes out before the blue eyed man can process what has happened. Stars dance across his vision as he staggers backwards, clutching his nose and feeling a hot wetness leaking through this fingers. His eyes sting at the sharp pressure but he never takes them off Jensen, even through the swirling patterns clouding his vision. 

Jensen scrambles up, jolted awake and confused. For a moment he can’t breathe, his throat is tight and constricted from the hot and acrid smoke within his dream. He was carefully trekking through the dense jungle when there was an explosion right underneath his Sergeant, the force swallowing the man and sending Jensen flying backwards and into a tree hard enough to cause intense pain to shoot through him and he couldn't move to get up. He was laying there, on the jungle floor, unable to breathe through the hot liquid filling this throat. Coughing and sputtering, drowning and unable to even lift a hand to his mouth. The stench of gunpowder heavy in the air, surrounded by silence that shouldn’t exist. Slowly, Jensen comes out of the stubborn remnants of his memories and the room stops whirling as it comes into focus. He’s not in the jungle anymore. The first sight that greets him is Misha standing several feet away, hand clenched across his face. 

 Jensen throws his sheets back, sending them onto the floor in a heap, and scrambles towards the other man. Misha stumbles backwards with a worried squeak. “Misha! I’m so sorry” Jensen begins to plead as he pieces together what just happened. He hit Misha. He didn’t mean to, he was asleep. Shit. 

“Please, let me see. I’m so sorry” Jensen urges and pleads, but still the other man backs away, wide eyes staring intently at Jensen as his stomach clenches into knots. He fumbles to turn on a light and the sight he’s greeted with is worse than he had hoped. Blood is seeping out between Misha’s fingers and dripping down his chin. “Shit” Jensen grabs for the first piece of cloth within reach, which turns out to be one of his clean shirts. He quickly steps into Misha’s space, grabbing the man to hold him in place and presses the cloth to the other man’s nose. 

Jensen guides him to sit on his bed, tipping the darker haired man’s head back to help slow the bleeding. “Can I take a look?” He dares to ask, worry etched into his face. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Misha starts, voice damped by the swell of blood in his sinuses. 

“No. It’s my fault, I should have warned you.” Jensen dabs at the nose, bleeding starting to slow. “It doesn’t look broken, but we should have Chad take a look to be sure” Jensen says, still inspecting but trying not to touch. Misha’s eyes water from the sting, but they don’t appear to be bruising yet. The man nods his consent and Jensen is hauling him up in the same breath. 

Chad’s bunk is near the infirmary, he’ll just have to deal with being woken up. Jensen drags Misha down the shiny black floored and deserted hall. His charge is muttering about it being able to wait until morning, he's had worse, but Jensen is having none of it.  

"Murray!" Jensen pounds on the doctor's room, demanding entry. A loud crash is followed by rather inventive curses and the promise to sew Jensen's hand to his dick can be heard on the other side of the door as Jensen continues his pounding. Misha watches in alarm, the threats towards Jensen sounding very real to the dark haired man. 

The door flies open and Chad glares murderously. "Ackles! Unless there's a flaming Kangaroo leaping down the hall and jumping through circus hoops, I'm going to disembowel you!" He half yells, squinting viciously at the man who disturbed his sleep before turning his pinched gaze towards Misha. 

"What the hell?!" He gasps out when he takes in the bloodied shirt Misha is still holding to his nose and his eyes squint further. "Ugh, hold on" The doctor mutters as he turns back into his room, fumbling for something.  

Jensen taps his foot as Misha just stares. Chad is shirtless, and pantless, clad only in bright green boxer shorts with neon pink hearts on them. Misha cringes at the sight and feels bad for Chad’s roommates, who are now grumbling at the intrusion themselves. He couldn't imagine having to share space with someone like _Chad._  

Chad ambles back to the door, now wrapped in a robe with slippers and black rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "What happened?" He whines out, leading the way to the infirmary before either of other two men have a chance to say anything. 

"I was having a nightmare" Jensen admits. 

"And you didn't warn Misha to keep his distance" Chad looks at Jensen like he's a complete moron. "Asshole" He mutters, taking Misha by the elbow and dragging him into an exam room, leaving Jensen to wait.  

Jensen falls into a chair, angry with himself and worried at the same time. He wouldn't be surprised if Misha doesn't want anything to do with him now.  

Inside the exam room, Chad hasn't quit grumbling. Misha hopped up on the table without being asked, he's had enough bloody noses to know what to do. "I don't think it's broken" Misha mumbles hopefully, trying somewhat to placate the irritated doctor. 

"I told him! I told him to tell you about those damn dreams of his. I knew something like this would happen! But no, no one listens to _Chad"_ The doctor continues his tirade, scarcely aware of the puzzled look his patient is giving him. 

"You know about his nightmares?" Misha asks, tilting his head back and trying not to look at the lights. 

"I was the first one he punched" Chad grumps, dropping some gauze on the table. “Don’t look at me like that! He was my patient. Here. In the hospital” He gripes when he notices the scandalized look Misha is trying to give him through eyes that he can’t quite open all the way. "Give me that" Chad yanks the shirt out of Misha's hand. "A t-shirt? Really?" He sighs, exasperated at his friend's carelessness. 

"My last bloody nose, I was grateful just to get a come soaked rag" Misha narrows his eyes further at the doctor. "I think the _t-shirt_ is pretty great" He adds on in a mutter, reaching for the shirt before Chad chucks it across the room and out of reach. He is not at all happy about Chad’s anger with Jensen. He hasn't talked a lot about the things he's been through, and this bit of information hits Chad like a ton of bricks. He freezes, mid wave of his arm and stares open mouthed at the patient on his table. 

Chad squeaks "What?!" And Misha just shrugs. Being given anything was good when he was with the Baael, usually they just let him bleed and then made him clean up the mess. Chad growls, high pitched and nearly a keen as he starts slamming instruments down on his little table. He's stopped his muttering and the rage at Misha's captors bubbles up in him to almost uncontrollable levels. He wants to hit something. Smash something. Misha sits in silence, watching Chad with ever growing concern but the blonde doctor is lost inside his own head. 

Suddenly, Chad slams down the last instrument and turns and stalks out the door. Misha sits sputtering on the table behind him as he watches Chad storm off towards Jensen. Jensen is sitting with his head buried in his hands but glances up when he hears the doctor’s approach. 

"Chad?" Jensen questions, seeing the wild look in the doctors eye. Jensen doesn't even have a chance to get up before a solid fist lands hard on his cheek. 

"Jensen!" Misha shouts, jumping down off the table and rushing out of the room towards his friend. 

"Stay back!" Chad barks at him, holding a hand up in a stopping motion as Jensen stares in disbelief. Misha stops stock still in his tracks, unwilling to get within Chad's striking distance. 

"What the hell Murray!" Jensen finally gets to his feet. _What's gotten into that man!?_ He shoves past Chad, using all of his restraint not to land a punch of his own. He figures he deserved that one, but if Chad makes a move on him again he won't get such an easy shot.  

"You ok?" He asks his nervous friend, resting his hands on the other man's shoulders. He rubs a thumb across Misha's blood stained cheek, angling his head to get a better look.  

Misha's blue eyes water as he reaches out a hand to touch the reddening mark on Jensen's cheek. Misha nods as he makes eye contact with his friend. He's ok, they're ok. Misha closes his eyes and glances down to he doesn’t get caught staring. He hates the idea of Jensen being hurt. "My nose really hurts" He whispers, forcing a smile when he looks back up.  

Jensen continues his stare as they move fractionally closer, his eyes seeking out the most impossible blue he’s ever seen. He doesn't realize he's leaning forward until his lips brush softly against the other man's and Misha squeaks in surprise but Jensen reaches for him, gently holding him place. Misha's mouth is soft and warm against his, the slightly chapped lips creating just enough friction to make Jensen want to press harder and taste more of the sweetness on the other man's breath. They move slowly together, drawing their bodies in until they're pressed nearly shoulders to knees but their kiss stays slow and sweet. Jensen smiles into it as their fingers find each other and intertwine like they were made to fit just so. 

"Fucking perfect" Chad grumbles from behind them, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'll be waiting to fix your face when you're done!" He half heartedly snaps as he stomps back into the exam room and slams the door behind him. 

Jensen and Misha lean their foreheads together, trying to breath and Misha chokes out a hiccup of a laugh. Jensen plants a chaste kiss on Misha's forehead before pushing him back. "You should go let Chad do his thing" Jensen half smirks, giving Misha a slight push. 

Misha nods, bringing a hand up to his lips as he smiles at his friend before turning to follow after Chad. He doesn't dare ask, doesn't dare ruin the moment they just shared. It feels that a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, not even Chad's grumpy attitude can ruin it. 

"So, I see all Prince Charming had to do was punch you to get things moving" Chad says flatly when Misha carefully sets himself back on the table. 

"Huh?" Misha can't help the self satisfied little smile that just won't go away despite the growing pain radiating from his nose. The bleeding stopped a bit ago, but he's still a mess. 

"Head back" Chad tilts Misha's chin back and starts wiping at the blood. "He really should have told you about those nightmares" The doctor mutters bitterly. 

"Hmmm. Why'd _you_ hit him anyways?" Misha asks. He's gotten fairly comfortable talking with this strange man over the last week, as long as they aren't talking details of Misha's life. 

Chad lets out a deep breath, huffing and shaking his head. "I had a sister" He continues dabbing Misha's cheeks, wiping the blood away. 

"I don't understand" Misha pulls his head back to take a good at Chad. The doctor seems unusually ruffled. He's seen this man and Jensen trade jibes and insults every day since he's been here, and he's never once seen Chad look truly upset. 

"She was kidnapped by slavers. I was 12, she was 5. I became a doctor and joined the military to try to _find_ her. It's been 20 years, and I've never found a trace. She's probably dead." Jared is the only one who Chad has told about Rachel, too much alcohol one night made it slip out in an undignified snot and tear filled mess.    

"I'm sorry" Misha reaches for Chad, grabbing and holding his arm to keep the other man from turning away. 

"It's just. You're older, you know?" Chad shrugs, trying not let his emotions get the best of him. "Maybe she _is_ still out there?" Chad searches Misha's eyes, looking for an answer to his unspoken question but finds nothing but confused concern. "If Jensen hurts you I'm going to kill him" Chad shakes his head but his eyes spark with a single minded sincerity. 

Misha doesn't know what to say, he sees now that there is more to Chad than the man lets anyone see. He's grateful for this peek under the mask, but it doesn't mean he knows what to do with it. "I wish I could help" Misha really does wish he could, but what could he possibly do to? 

"Maybe you can, bird brain. We'll talk about it when it isn't the asscrack of dawn and your boyfriend isn't lingering outside." Chad smirks, mask sliding back into place. "I hope it goes without saying, Princess, but if you breathe a word of that to _anyone,_ I will hurt you." Chad points a pair of scissors at the other man and pointedly snips them open and shut. 

Misha gulps, nodding at the other man. He does not want to find out what those scissors can do. And _boyfriend?_ Is Chad just being, well... Chad? Or…not?  

Chad makes short work of placing a few pieces of tape to keep the bruised nose braced against further assault, but it will do nothing to help the faint raccoon eyes that Misha is beginning to develop. Chad snorts at the sight before shooing Misha off the table and out the door. 

Jensen jumps quickly to his feet when Misha is all but shoved out of the exam room with the door quickly slamming behind him, leaving no room for him to retreat. “You ok?” Jensen asks, fidgeting with his hands as he watches the other man cross the room towards him. 

Misha doesn’t say a word, but the playful smile he’s wearing despite his taped nosing and darkening eyes tells Jensen everything he needs to know. The fact that the man grabs Jensen’s wrist and drags him behind is a pretty good indicator to. 

Jensen follows Misha back to their room, trying to decide the best approach to apologizing for that kiss. It was amazing, wonderful and oh so terribly wrong of him to do that. 

Misha stops outside of their door. They passed through the deserted halls unnoticed and it’s taking all of his reserve to keep his hands off of Jensen on their way back. He wants so badly to run his hands down that firmly muscled back, memorize every dip and curve on the other man’s body and feel his short spiky hair between his fingers. An unfamiliar heat settles low in his stomach and a forbidden thrill passes through him, forcing his eyes to slowly close. He had doubts that Jensen felt anything for him, but his confidence is renewed by that kiss and he refuses to wait for Jensen to stop treating him like he’s going to break. 

Jensen fumbles slightly with the lock. It hasn’t escaped his notice that, despite Misha’s silence, the man is anxious. He feels that penetrating blue gaze raking over him, and his cock gives an interested twitch when he turns to glance at the other man before opening the door and sees those blue eyes blown wide and the pink tip of his tongue dart out between his lips as he stares right at him. His heart rate picks up, hammering now so hard he can almost hear it in the silence of the hallway. He’s certain that this man is going to be the death of him. 

As soon as Jensen manages to crack open the door, Misha is hurrying them inside. The door falls shut behind them, and Misha is crowding Jensen towards his bed. His hands fist in Jensen’s shirt, forcing the other man closer, but Jensen looks as if he can’t tell whether to run or just go with it. He’s like putty under Misha’s grip, allowing himself to be moved where ever Misha wants. 

 The green eyes looking back at him are wide with questions, fearful, and Misha loses his nerve. His heart is racing, his breathing heavy but he forces himself to stop; leaning his forehead against Jensen’s with a huff. 

“Misha, I…” Jensen starts, not daring to move and hardly daring to even breathe. He’s afraid to even touch the other man, a fist in his shirt and their foreheads being their only points on contact. 

“You don’t want me” Misha mutters bitterly without moving. 

“I do! It’s just...” Jensen tries to pull back slightly but hands grip him harder, preventing his escape.  

“What?!” Misha interrupts, tired of these mixed signals. Why would Jensen have kissed him just an hour ago if he didn’t want him! Misha pulls back his head to stare into those green eyes, searching for an explanation. 

“I…are you sure? That you want this?” Jensen starts “I can’t do this unless you want me to” Green eyes plead and irritation rises in Misha. 

“You don’t trust me to know what I want” He releases his hold on Jensen and turns away, scrubbing his hands across his face and wincing in pain when he bumps his nose. His eyes burn, but differently than they did an hour ago. 

“I’m not an idiot you know” Misha says hotly, refusing to turn back to the other man. Heat prickles in the corners of his eyes as frustration grips tightly in his chest. 

“I know you’re not” Jensen wants to badly to reach out for Misha, but he’s screwed this up enough already. _Fuck it._ “Misha, come here” He says softly, pleading with the other man for forgiveness. “Please” 

Misha turns to stare at Jensen, assessing, deciding whether he wants to put himself out there again just to be rejected. The green eyes looking back at his are honest and anxious. The man’s breath is shallow as he stands rooted to the spot, completely still. 

“Please, Misha” Jensen takes a step forward, now it’s Misha’s turn to stand frozen. Jensen continues forward until he’s close enough to grasp for Misha’s hand. He brings it up to place open palmed on his chest. “Please” He pleads, releasing his hold on the other man’s hand and waiting. Hoping. 

Misha feels the heat from Jensen's chest beneath the thin cotton of his shirt and takes a calming breath. He takes a step closer, into Jensen's space and wraps his other arm around the small of Jensen's back, drawing the man in. Taking what’s being offered. The two men stare at each other, silently coming to an agreement before Misha closes the last of the distance between them. 

He runs his hand across Jensen’s chest as their lips mesh, feeling the curve of the other man’s pecs and the hard nub in the center of one before drifting up and around his shoulder. Jensen pushes closer, slowly daring to run his hands lightly down Misha’s sides, ghosting over the thin material of the other man’s shirt before exploring fingers find their way under the hem and onto the soft skin underneath. 

Misha moans into the kiss, those gentle fingers teasing at his sides lighting him up in a way that feels so entirely new and yet so completely right. He runs his own hands down muscled back, feeling muscles tense and bunch underneath his slim fingers before settling on the dip just above the other man’s waist. 

Hearts hammering, they both draw back just far enough to look at each other and Jensen can’t help his grin when he sees a shy smile on the other man’s face, blue eyes nearly closing. “Bed?” Jensen suggests. Misha nods and Jensen drags him towards his bed and pulls him back onto it so that he lands nearly on top of Jensen, legs straddling his hips. 

Misha wastes no time in sliding his hands underneath the other man’s shirt, feeling the softness of his stomach underneath his fingers before sliding them around his sides and back up, rucking the shirt up as he goes. Jensen takes the hint and sits up just enough to peel the shirt from his body and toss it aside.  

The blue eyed man sits back, surveying the beautiful man underneath him. The pale skin with just the faintest dusting of freckles. Misha contemplates finding each and every one and kissing it into memory, wanting to gently lick and suck the salt off the other man's skin. All of this is familiar, a lifetime of training coming in to play, yet somehow this exercise of freedom is completely foreign. He studies every dip of muscle, every hard plane and every soft one, his breath hitches as he watches the strong flex of bare arms as Jensen runs his hands under Misha’s shirt and along his sides before settling down on his hips.  

Misha peels off his own shirt, nearly preening when he sees Jensen’s eyes go wide in appreciation and that maddening tongue dart out to moisten his dry lips. He leans forward and presses his lips to Jensen’s, opening his mouth to explore the other man’s taste. He reaches out with his own tongue, lightly tracing the plush bow of Jensen’s lips before they part and allow him entry. He seeks out the hard ridge of teeth and the softness of tongue. He savors the warmth pooling in his belly and relishes the stirrings further down. This is all so new and exciting. 

Breaking from Jensen’s mouth, he travels down; leaving a smattering of kisses along the other man’s jaw and down his throat. He nuzzles behind Jensen’s ear, a groan escaping as he breathes in the fresh and slightly soapy scent to be found there and grins when his attention elicits a snort of laughter from the other man when he brushes a kiss to the shell of his ear. Misha smiles and does it again, delighting in the sound. 

Jensen’s hands hesitate to wander, wanting Misha to have complete control but they take on a mind of their own as they drift up and down the other man's back. His fingers ghost over the bumps of Misha's spine, the bony processes reminding both of them where they started and the distance they still have to travel. Jensen gazes in awe at the man above him, his strength and bravery shining bright in his pleasured abandon. His eyes are bright like a little boy on Christmas, excitedly staring at all the wonders of the lights, sounds and smells of a special word created just for him. How could Misha ever have been convinced he was weak? Misha is a wonder to behold, looking down at Jensen with all of the adoration and trust that any other man would be unable to muster after the disastrous hell his life has been. 

Misha skims lower, dragging the tip of his bruised nose gently down the dip in the middle of Jensen's chest, leaving a trail of kisses following the faint path of freckles and humming in satisfaction of the taste of Jensen's skin on his lips. His tongue laves circles around the pink nub at the center and he smiles at the gasp from the other man following the cool puff of air he sent over the spit slick skin.  

Misha groans as Jensen presses his hips up into him, gasping and stuttering when he feels Jensen's hot and hard length through their soft sleep pants as he presses his own down. Misha swallows a flash of fear that rises in him at the feel of Jensen beneath him, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before slowly blinking them open again and gazing into the bright green staring up at him. He knows that he can trust the man that those honest and bright eyes belong to. 

"You ok baby?" Jensen feels the man above him tense at the rock of his hips and he stills, not wanting to push too hard but body craving more. The rush of pleasure and excitement coursing through his veins in an insistent deluge that refuses to be denied. He waits as he sees Misha breathe in deeply and his blue eyes slide closed, sensing the need for a moment's pause and forcing himself to hold back. A heartbeat passes and those eyes flutter open, lust darkened with pupils blown wide as Misha presses back. 

Misha nods as he leans forward again to take Jensen's plush bottom lip between his teeth and tugs as he grinds down, rocking into the other man as their hard lengths press together. Hands slide down over his hips and fingers press into the swell of his ass, pulling him forward and down.  

"Jensen" Misha gasps as the other man's thumb finds its way under his waistband, brushing the tip of his leaking cock as it strains against the material. 

"You like that?" Jensen asks in a breathy smiling whisper, unable to hold back any longer. His voice is deep and whiskey rough even to his own ears, as he reaches deeper and runs his fingers loosely around Misha's length. 

"Oh god" Misha groans, rolling his head back and thrusting reflexively into Jensen's fist. The green eyed man uses his other hand to tug Misha's waistband down, freeing his cock and granting easier access. He bats the other man's hands away from his own waistband, smiling in smug satisfaction as he makes Misha's pleasure his mission. 

"Mmmm, so pretty like this" Jensen murmurs, unable to hold back his appreciation at the man strung out above him, riding him. His fingers curl around Misha's perfect cock as it struggles to point upward, swollen and dark. He feels the hard member twitch in his hand as his thumb circles and presses the sensitive underside of the head. He scoops a drop of pre come leaking from the slit with his other hand and brings it to his mouth, watching Misha's eyes blow wide with a desperate plea of a whimper as he licks his fingers obscenely. "Taste so good baby" Jensen returns his hand for more, gently caressing and teasing Misha's balls in the process.  

Misha can't bring himself to speak, his obscene whimpering the only sound able to slip from his throat; Jensen jacking him gently and twisting a little around the head, pressing his thumb into the base of his crown as no one has done before. Part of him feels wrong, taking his pleasure wantonly without giving any to the other man; but a glance into darkened green eyes tell him that this is what the other wants. Misha grinds down, feeling Jensen's cock underneath him and he sets up a rhythm of thrusting and grinding that soon has Jensen groaning and thrusting back as they work towards the finish. 

He leans down, pressing his lips back to the other man's, tasting himself on them as the pace quickens. Jensen's grip tightens, pulling Misha down tight to him. "So good baby" He groans, stripping Misha's cock faster and watches the man writhe above him and plants both hands on Jensen's chest. Their hips roll together, faster and harder until their rhythm begins to falter. Jensen feels his orgasm building with all the blinding grace of a freight train, watching Misha open mouthed above him as Jensen's hands work him. Jensen runs a hand up the hard plane of Misha's middle and up and over his chest to cup his jaw and pull him down for a sloppy kiss. He can feel his lover tense and knows he's almost there. "Come for me sweetheart" He whispers in the blue eyed man's ear, low and gentle as he gives the man's cock a squeeze. 

Misha cries out, his whole body shuddering with the command that he is all too willing to comply with. Hot, sticky spurts coat Jensen's fist and chest as he plants his feet and grinds up in to the other man. Misha twists on Jensen's lap, pushing down as he shudders through his orgasm and whimpering as his cock tries to spurt with renewed interest as he watches Jensen bring his come coated hand to his mouth and lick a long strip from his palm. The way the man groans, like it’s the best thing he's ever tasted, has Misha nearly coming again. Between Misha's continued grinding and the filthy little sounds pouring out of him, Jensen pushes over the edge, going rigid below the other man and spurting hot in his pants with a strangled cry, his eyes blown wide and head thrown back. After he starts to come down, Jensen chuckles at feeling like an inexperienced teenager again, coming untouched and sticky, but he isn't ashamed. It's all too good to be ashamed. 

The blue eyed man collapses on top of Jensen, not caring about the quickly cooling mess between them. Their lips find each other, slow and lazy, both too boneless for more. Misha can't help his grin as he rests his head on Jensen's shoulder, allowing the other man to draw light circles on his back. He angles his eyes up to Jensen and his smile grows when he sees contented and soft green eyes staring back at him. From this close distance, each and every freckle can be seen in distinct clarity and they really do look like stars. Jensen holds him tight like he's wanted to all along. 

Jensen intends to get up so he can clean them both up, but Misha falls asleep warm against him and he feels that waking him would be a grievous crime. Jensen lays there, holding the other man and watching him sleep. His face is more relaxed than Jensen has ever seen him and it's hard to imagine how much he's been through when he looks so innocent in his sleep. Soft snuffles rise from the other man's lips, his nose slightly swollen and making breathing impossible. Jensen smiles and hugs him closer, letting his mind wander and trying not concern himself with what happens next. Before he realizes it, he's drifting into the most peaceful sleep he's had in a year.


	10. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when things start to go right, they start to go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've caught up the posting with what I have written, so updates might come a little slower for a bit. Let me know what you think so far! I kinda struggled with this chapter, so hopefully y'all find it decent.

_Bang, Bang, Bang_ "Jensen!" 

_Bang, Bang, Bang_ "Ackles! I know you're in there!" 

Both men jolt awake, Misha crashing to the floor with an undignified squawk in a tangle of blankets as Jensen scrambles upright. What the? 

"Jensen?!" Misha gasps out, worry etched in his face as his heart stutters in a frantic staccato rhythm. Who the hell is banging on the door? Are they in trouble? He breathes heavily, and far too rapidly, scrambling to untangle himself from his blanket cocoon. 

"Ugh" Jensen grumbles, wiping the dried come on his chest with a disgusted look and really wishing he had gotten them cleaned up last night. His skin stings where Misha had abruptly pulled away when he fell off the too narrow bed, he might has well have just ripped a bandage off they were so stuck together. Gross. 

_Bang, Bang, Bang._ The incessant pounding continues, the knocking far too hard and urgent for this hour of the morning. What time is it anyways? Jensen rubs his head as Misha climbs to his feet, searching for clean clothes. Jensen looks down at himself, screwing up his face at the dread of peeling his pants away from the dried mess contained within and groaning. 

"Jensen?" Misha asks again, voiced hushed as if he's afraid whoever is demanding entry will hear him. 

"It's ok. Jus Jared" Jensen rolls his eyes and glares at the door as if his friend can see him through the door. "Knock it off asshole!" Jensen barks at the door and the pounding stops for a half a second, before resuming more vigorously. 

"You can't keep the new guy to yourself! Get out here! It's almost 9" Jared whines from the other side of the door between bangs. He's going to disturb everyone on the ship if he doesn't get his way dammit! 

“It’s ok Mish” Jensen tries to calm the other man as his blue eyes widen in panic. Jensen can see the uptick in his breathing and can imagine his heartrate has changed to match. “JARED!” Jensen hollers, trying to shut Jared up. 

 Misha cringes at the depth and roughness that yelling brings to Jensen’s voice and hurries to get out of the way, hovering on the other side of the room near his bed as Jensen throws a shirt on and rubs at the front of his sleep pants. It’s then that Misha notices the darkened stain on the front, proudly telling the story of last night's events. Misha glances down to check his own front and is relieved to find himself clean apart from the flaking mess dried to his stomach. 

“It’s ok. Nothing to worry about” Jensen urges, holding his hands out in a calming motion. “Just gotta change” He motions dejectedly at his stained pants with a cringe. “Jared! Seriously. Just a minute!” Jensen calls again when the pounding resumes outside. 

“What the hell Jen! You’re not fucking the new guy are you?!” Is shouted through the door in a deep and booming voice, giving no thought to who might be around to hear. He's joking of course, and Jensen knows it, but it doesn't stop Jensen's heart rate from skittering anxiously. 

Misha’s blue eyes blow comically wide as his face flushes in a mix of embarrassment and terror. Jensen clenches his jaw, fuming at his friend. He’s clearly already been to see Chad. “He’s friends with Chad” Jensen tries to explain to Misha. “Fuck you Jared!” Jensen yells through the closed door as he strips out of his pants, quickly grabbing new ones and hopping into them. Misha stares open mouthed, a mix between shock and arousal coursing through him at the sight of Jensen’s nudity. “What? You like?” Jensen smirks as he pauses for a moment, pants half up and cock hanging heavy and half hard underneath Misha’s gaze. 

Misha simply swallows heavily and nods, slowly dragging his eyes up as he licks his lips; Jared’s version of knocking temporarily forgotten. His own cock stirs at the sight of the half-naked man before him, Jensen is beautiful _everywhere_ and desire flashes through him hotly.  

The pounding on the door continues and Jensen curses under his breath. He quickly pulls up his pants and throws on a shirt before storming over to the door. “Seriously. Asshole.” He deadpans as he throws the door open and glares at his friend. 

Jared has his hand, balled into a fist, cocked and ready for the next round of pounding and stares dumbly for a moment when the door flies open with Jensen’s irritated face appearing. “What took you so long?” He breaks into a grin, trying to look around Jensen who is staunchly blocking the room from view. “And where’s the new guy?” He can nearly see right over the Jensen’s head, but his friend has had too much practice in dealing with his tricks. 

“The new guy has a name dickwad. And you about scared the shit out of him with all your pounding. Do you have any idea the shit he’s had to live with! And then you come practically trying to break down the door?” Jensen begins his tirade, determined to chastise Jared for his rude entrance. 

“Shit! Jen, I didn’t think! Oh my god. Is he ok?” Jared doubles his efforts to see around or over Jensen, concern filling his widened hazel eyes when he realizes his mistake. As a hand flies to cover his mouth in his disbelief over his own stupidity. 

“What do you want so early?” Jensen narrows his eyes to a glare. He’s glad to see his best friend, but he isn’t letting him off easy. He knows without looking that Misha is probably sitting on his bed with his knees drawn up tight, if he isn’t hiding underneath it. God, he hopes he isn’t hiding underneath it. 

“It’s after 9” Jared says, like that explains anything. “I’ve been waiting for hours” He adds in a whine, busting out the puppy dog eyes that never fail to win Jensen over. 

“Well you could have waited longer then” Jensen grumbles as he steps back to let Jared in and finally granting the man a glimpse of Misha. 

Jared carefully steps around Jensen, slouching slightly in a fruitless attempt to hide his nearly sasquatch proportions. He knows he can be intimidating at first and will readily admit he may have been thoughtless in rousing his friend in such a raucous fashion. He sees the unfamiliar man sitting on a bed against the wall, knees drawn up protectively and eyeing Jared with suspicious concern. “Hi. I’m Jared” He offers softly as Jensen lets the door fall closed behind him. He smiles, knowing all too well the effect his boyish grin has on people. “Sorry about….that. I was…” Jared fumbles for words, the blue gaze being leveled at him intensely stealing his words and making him feel like a child all over again. 

“An asshole?” The words drift to him in a hesitant whisper from behind hunched knees and a snort sounds from behind him. Jared nearly stutters in surprise, his eyes going wide at the accusation despite its truth. A genuine smile cracks his lips as the blue eyes raise up slightly, revealing a crooked but timid smile from behind the knobby knees. 

“Yeah. That” Jared chuckles, raising a hand to brush his nearly shoulder length hair back behind his ears as he studies the man in front of him. 

“Jared, Misha. Misha, this is Jared” Jensen smirks, stepping forward. Pride surges through him at Misha’s brazenness. Despite his obvious nerves, the man managed to stand up to Jared. Sort of. He has the sinking feeling that the two men are going to get along a little too well. 

Misha slowly unfolds himself, still eyeing Jared warily as he gets to his feet. He glances at Jensen nervously and reminds himself that Jared is supposed to be one of Jensen’s best friends, he doesn’t need to be afraid. “Hi” Misha says, forcing a more confident smile and stepping closer to Jared, offering his hand as he’s seen people do. 

Jared takes in the sight of the man before him, his eyes are huge and some of the purest blue Jared has ever seen, his mop of dark hair nearly meets them and is either clearly intentionally sex mused or has had no care at all. He’s taller than expected, and clearly under fed but seemingly in good health. He has a unique look about him, his eyes almost sag and he has a broad mouth but there is something undeniably handsome about him. His blue eyes stare through Jared expectantly and Jared feels somewhat unsettled by their intensity. He finds himself having trouble holding the man’s gaze. 

Jared’s huge hand envelopes Misha’s in a firm shake and Misha takes a hurried step back when he realizes just how _huge_ Jared is. The man is easily several inches taller than Jensen and he isn’t standing up straight at all. Jared chuckles knowingly at Misha’s reaction. “I know, I’m tall”. The grin full of sunshine flashed his way goes a long ways to calm Misha’s nerves, and when Jared shakes his bangs off his face like a puppy Misha can’t help the smile that graces his own face as he brushes a hand through his still too long hair, making it stand up slightly in front in a way that’s starting to get on his nerves. 

Jensen stands awkwardly to the side, trying to make a decision. He knows that Jared will likely see right through him, somehow knowing that he and Misha are a bit more than they’re supposed to be; but he also knows that Jared probably won’t be as approving as Chad. He settles on standing beside Misha, but not too close. If Jared notices anything he doesn’t say as much. 

“So, I hear last night was eventful?” Jared smirks, gesturing at the faint bruise on Jensen’s cheek and the tape still clinging to Misha’s nose. Misha startles at his words and Jensen’s eyes widen fractionally. 

“Uh, yeah. Late night” Jensen mutters, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as Misha continues to stare wide eyed at the overly tall man before him. 

“Tell me about it” Jared rolls his eyes. “On second thought, don’t. I already heard enough from Chad” Jared says, narrowing his eyes at Jensen. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell him” He jerks his head toward Misha, irritation coloring his tone. 

“It’s ok” Misha says quietly, gaze shifting away from Jared to land on Jensen. He doesn’t blame Jensen, and it is beginning to annoy him that everyone else seems to. 

Jared eyes Misha critically now that the penetrating blue gaze isn’t focusing on him, wanting to comment further but he’s beginning to sense something. Misha is bolder than he expected him to be, although he’s glad that the man isn’t cowering in the corner and terrified. The blue eyes staring back at him are wary, but he meets Jared’s gaze with a certainty that most men have trouble holding. Jared knows he’s an imposing man and he can be downright terrifying when he wants to be. Despite his stupidity in introducing himself, Misha seems to have no problem meeting his gaze. Jared wishes he could say the same. 

Misha finds himself mesmerized by Jared’s eyes. From the distance they looked simply brown, but now that he’s closer they’ve taken on a bluish hue that seems to pulse with hints of gold and green as if they don’t know what color they’re supposed to be so they decided to be everything. He feels Jensen relaxing beside him slightly and he can’t help the twitch of a smile that crosses his face, it seems that he’s passing this test. 

“So, breakfast?” Jensen asks, trying to break the stare off his two friends are having. He doesn’t want Jared to linger long enough to figure out how what he and Misha were up to. Jensen is on the verge of freaking out about it himself and the thought of Jared joining that party makes his stomach drop and squirm. 

“You might catch it if you hurry. ” Jared responds with a shrug, tucking his hair back behind his ear where is just refuses to stay. "I already ate" He adds with a shy smile. 

"Oh, good. Wouldn't want you to scare Misha with your nonexistent table manners" Jensen smirks, turning to throw an arm over Jared's shoulders as he winks at Misha. 

"Jerk" Jared snips with a grin, ducking out from under Jensen's hold. 

"Bitch" Jensen smiles back, not missing the flinch from Misha at the word.  

"You guys better get going" Jared urges. The mess is only open another 20 minutes, but he senses Jensen is nervous about something and Misha clearly needs to keep up with his meals. He’d be willing to bet that you could count the man’s ribs from across the room. Misha has taken to eyeing him with his head cocked to the side and his forehead crinkled in thought as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Morgan and I want to meet with you and Kane this morning to discuss your exit of Perdition, and then we need to meet one on one with Misha” Jared informs and isn’t surprised when the other men’s eyes widen.  

Jensen glances to Misha, gauging the other man’s reaction and is quickly met with those piercing blue eyes launching dozens of questions all at once. “It’s ok, standard procedure” He answers what he assumes is the most pressing of Misha’s questions. He can sense the other man’s nerves as if he’s speaking aloud and he automatically moves a step closer as if being near will help settle both of them. 

“Alright” Jared drags out the word, seeing the unspoken conversation between the other two men. He can’t be sure, but he suspects there is something going on here. He knows Jensen would never force himself on someone, but the charge in the air tells him that there is something between these two that he worries could be a problem. “Good to see you Jensen, Misha. We’ll have to do some catching up later” He flashes a grin full and nods to both men while shooting Jensen a knowing look that makes the other man squirm slightly. Jared turns and leaves the room, shaking his head as he goes. The reunion between friends did not unfold as he had imagined. 

Once Jared leaves, Jensen allows himself to breathe. He hadn’t realized he had forgotten that essential function until dark spots began to dance in his vision and Misha’s gaze turned concerned. His shoulders slump, releasing tension that he knows Jared didn’t miss and he hopes that his friend doesn’t judge him too harshly for what he’s done. 

“I don’t think he likes me” Misha mumbles, disappointment coursing through him that he failed to impress Jensen’s best friend. He had wanted to do better, and he wrings his hands hoping that Jensen isn’t disappointed with him. 

“He was just surprised is all. I…I gotta be honest with you Misha” Jensen swallows hard, but he knows he needs to make sure Misha understands. Misha’s eyes turn from concern to full out worried in the split second it takes Jensen to force another breathe. “This, this thing between us” Jensen gestures to the two of them and can see Misha’s expression fall from worry into something worse. “We need to keep it just between us. No one can know. I shouldn’t have kissed you in front of Chad last night. I’m sorry” Jensen mumbles at the end, he was going to tell the other man that they couldn’t do that again but lost the nerve when Misha’s expression took on the look of a kicked puppy. If Jensen if being honest with himself, he doesn’t want it to stop either. 

“Why not?” Misha looks slightly less abashed but still wary, taking a half step further away. 

“Because, it’ll look bad. They could take you away, even put me in jail. They’ll assume I forced myself on you” Jensen chokes back slightly, the emotion pulling at his throat, burning like acid.  

“But that isn’t true!” Misha assures, seeing that Jensen is already beating himself up. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I’ll keep my distance when we’re out. I swear! Please” Misha pleads, begging Jensen to not blame himself or take this away. He can feel his eyes burn with the threat of more tears and Misha hates himself for that. It seems like all he does is cry and he hates it! 

“Hey, deep breath. Come on” Jensen urges gently as he quickly crosses the room to try and intervene with Misha’s impending anxiety attack. He doesn’t know the right words to say, they all dry up on his tongue and coat his mouth in cotton, rendering him unable to give the comfort he so badly wants to provide. He settles for pulling the other man into a kiss, letting his body say what his words fail to do. Misha kisses back earnestly, relief flowing through him when he understands what the green eyed man is trying to tell him. 

One kiss turns into two, which turns into wandering hands and exploration until Jensen’s stomach unleashes a rumble loud enough to wake the dead. Misha steps back with a giggle, surveying Jensen’s kiss swollen lips and lust blown eyes so wide that barely any green remains. “We should go, eat” Misha takes a step back but doesn’t release Jensen’s hands from his own. He smiles and ducks his head, trying not to giggle again at the sight of Jensen’s open mouthed stare like suggesting breakfast is the most absurd idea in the world. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” Jensen clears his throat, trying not to act like Misha didn’t just essentially cock block him. The man knows how to tease, that’s for sure. He shakes his head and stifles a laugh. Just awesome. 

\--- 

They make it to breakfast with about 5 minutes to spare. The hall is nearly deserted and the cooks eager to get rid of the food that’s left so they both end up with trays nearly overflowing with eggs, sausage, pancakes and something Misha has discovered to be his new favorite food….bacon. 

Misha happily chews his sixth slice of bacon, having resorted to stealing a slice off of Jensen’s tray. “You know what would make this even better?” He talks through the food, not minding the fact that little bits try to sneak their way out. 

Jensen glances up from his tray, raising his eyebrows in question since his own mouth is full of pancake. Misha take that as a cue to continue, but much to Jensen’s thanks he swallows before he does. 

“Kale” Misha states as if it might be the cure for everything wrong in the world. Jensen makes a face around his pancake filled mouth before forcing the food down. 

“Gross” He mutters, shaking his head with a small smile.  

Misha’s expression falls slightly, not sure how to take Jensen’s disagreement until those bright green eyes zero in on the corner of his mouth and fixate on a crumb that Jensen soon reaches across to brush away with his thumb. “You’re adorable” Jensen teases at Misha’s crestfallen expression, causing a smile to break out on the man’s face. 

Their mugs tremble, sloshing the hot and steaming coffee over the edges and both men turn their gazes downward. The trembling strengthens, vibrating the entire table and the floor as Misha places his palms flat on the smooth surface and looks to Jensen with wide and terrified eyes. Before either man has a chance to speak, alarms are blaring through the hall, screeching a warning that cannot be ignored. 

“Jensen?!” Misha nearly squeals, entire body wracking with tremors that rival those surrounding them. He shakily gets to his feet, whatever this is, it can’t be good. 

Jensen slips effortlessly into the mode of soldier. The shrill pulse of the alarm signals an attack and a call to battle stations. He reaches for his side arm, returned to him only the day before once the review board cleared him and Christian of any wrong doing, and readies it; flicking off the safety and preparing for the worst. “We gotta get you back to my quarters” Jensen snips, not leaving any room for argument. 

They rush back towards the room, Misha still vibrating with terror. “I need you to stay here. Stay hidden, no matter what. I have to go” Jensen settles the man in the bottom of the small closet of the room and lets his hand linger on a trembling shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” Misha squeaks out, barely able to push the words out. 

“I don’t know” Jensen answers. “Hopefully it’s just a drill” He tries to force a smile but it comes out so weak that he knows he isn’t convincing anyone. “Just stay here. Please.” He urges, quickly standing and pulling the door closed before Misha can protest. 

Misha huddles in the dark, drawing his knees up in to a tight hug as he hears the door to the room snap shut at Jensen’s departure. The alarms still haven’t silenced, and he hears what might be explosions in the distance. Sitting here in this little box of a closet is almost worse than being exposed. He has no way to tell what is going on, or if Jensen is ok. 

\--- 

Jensen runs down the hall, boots falling heavy on the polished floor as he makes his way to the command center. When he arrives, Jared and Christian are already there and huddled around a table with Commander Day and the other officers. He quickly stows his weapon as he joins the group. He glances from face to face and sees a mixture of anger, disbelief and determination; no fear or worry. 

“Commander” Jensen nods as he takes his position between Jared and Christian. Jared may now be a diplomat, but he is still a skilled soldier and there are no others Jensen would rather have by his side than his two friends. 

“Now that everyone is here” Commander Day shoots Jensen a hard look, silently questioning what took him so long to report. He looks down sheepishly, not making excuses or explaining that he needed to get Misha somewhere safe first. 

“The Baael are attacking. The Prince was not satisfied with the results of our investigation or our refusal to turn the two of you, and Misha, over to them. Our scouts first noticed some fighters departing from Perdition yesterday but they were cloaked until they started firing upon us just now” Day pulls out a map, pointing to various locations and eyeing each soldier in turn. Moments like this are why she is in charge. There is no doubt of her leadership, her tenacious ferocity instills confidence amongst the men in the room. 

“We have deployed our own fighters to combat them, but we have reason to believe more are coming. Our intel suggests that King Benedict is dead, quite possibly murdered” Day fixes Jensen and Christian with an intense gaze, weighing their skill against what she’s about to ask. 

“Ackles, Kane, Padalecki. I want you to lead a small crew to launch a direct attack on Perdition. Your goal will be to disable Prince Pellegrino’s ship and prevent it from entering firing distance of Athena”  

“Yes Ma’am” All three men recite in unison with firm nods. No one is a better shot than Jensen or a better pilot than Kane and Jared is one of the best strategists in the force. Many of the men call them cowboys, and they’re not entirely wrong when it comes to the born and raised Texans. The three of them together were a force to be reckoned with before Jared transferred to the Diplomatic division. They will be more than happy to serve some Texas style justice to the Baael Prince. 

“Choose your crew and get going. Immediately” Day dismisses them, knowing they will see between the lines of her orders. 

The three men hurry to the dockings bays, having selected three other soldiers to join them. They chose highly skilled marksman who are also accomplished in hand to hand combat. They ready their jets quickly, each of the three officers taking one along with another crew member. Three jets to take out the whole of Perdition, a ship only slightly smaller than a space station. 

Jensen settles into the Captain’s chair, pulling the straps across his chest and firing the engines as his Corporal does the same, settling behind the weapons controls. Preparations are minimal in the small craft that was designed for fighting and agility. As a child Jensen imagined becoming a military space pilot would be like something out of the Star Wars movies his Grandfather loved so much. He would pretend to be Luke Skywalker, zooming around his Grandfather’s ranch on his horse pretending to shoot down the bad guys. He learned quickly that real life is rarely that exciting, but right now might be the exception. He fights a smile behind the mask he just slipped on at the surge of adrenaline coursing through him as he guides his jet to disconnect from Athena. 

They fall under attack as soon as they launch, The Prince’s forces surrounding Athena turning their guns further outward as the three small jets join the fray. Missiles fire around them, as they swerve and dodge through the inky black of space to narrow avoid them. Corporal Eli quickly flips the controls, activating their own missiles but hold back firing on Jensen’s order. They’re saving them for Perdition. 

Their radar pings, alerting them to the presence of a large ship but there is nothing in sight. “Captain, where is it?” His copilot asks, confusion coloring his tone as he searches the void around them. 

“Lieutenant?” Jensen calls over the comm, questioning Christian. 

“Hold on” Christian’s voice crackles over the radio as Jared’s jet slows beside them. Christian flips a series of buttons, preparing an electromagnetic pulse. “Shields up” He warns.  

A brilliant orange fills the sky as the pulse is released, surging outwards from Christian’s controls and filling the silence of space with a high pitched electronic hum that would be crippling to unprotected hearing, and is devastating to the magnet powered shields cloaking the enemy ship. 

The looming enemy blinks into view, closer than the six man mission crew had expected. They quickly spring into action, splitting up to circle the larger ship and begin their assault. Jared and Christian lead an assault on the back, firing relentlessly at the long row of rear thrusters that are valiantly closing the distance between Perdition and Athena. If they allow the enemy ship to get too close, it has canons large enough to cripple Athena with one direct hit. 

Jensen circles back to the front, to assault the docking bays and prevent more enemy ships from launching. A few Baael fighters have redirected their efforts to attack the three human jets, but they are quickly taken care of.  

Jensen lets out a whoop when his Corporal lands a direct hit, lighting up the Baael fighter on their tail in an impressive display of fireworks and shrapnel.  

They turn their attentions back to the task at hand, Christian and Jared rejoining them as they blow up the last of the docking bays. They really shouldn’t have designed them to be on the outside of the ship. Jensen smirks as he watches a bay door twitch and struggle to open but fails. They left one door intact, and it is large enough for all three of them to pull in to. 

Christian locks on first, quickly followed by Jared and Jensen and the gate groans in protest over the combined weight of the three ships. They quickly disembark, leaving the three corporals to defend the jets and the docking bay. 

Christian and Jensen quickly recognize the wreckage of the docks from their escape not long ago. Just around the corner is the infirmary and the command center lays in the other direction. That is where they need to go. 

Their boots fall nearly silent on the wood like floor of Perdition as they slink down the corridor with their guns at the ready. They need to put a stop to this quickly and get back out before too many Baael notice their presence. 

They reach the command center strangely unchallenged and a tingle of unease creeps up their spines. Christian signals for Jared to hang back, out of sight, as he and Jensen ready themselves to kick open the door they suspect the Prince is hiding behind. Jared falls back, stepping just around the corner but he keeps his gun at the ready, covering his two friends. 

One solid kick is all it takes for the door to swing inward. Jensen immediately steps through the opening, gun raised as he sweeps the room. Christian follows close behind and they both settle their weapons on the only other being in the room. 

“Glad to see you finally made it, Emissary. Do tell, where is my pet?” Prince Pellegrino hisses as he slowly turns, pressing his fingertips together, completely unconcerned by the two humans currently aiming their guns in his direction.  

Jensen bristles at his words but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Call off your attack on Athena” He demands, not bothering with diplomatic pretense. What would be the point? His aim shifts towards the Prince’s head, just waiting for an excuse. 

“Oh now, what would be the fun in that?” Pellegrino questions, tilting his head to the side slightly as his horns press upwards. “They shouldn’t have protected thieves and murderers” He gives a toothy grin as he presses one of his long and clawed fingertips to chin in thought.  

“We made a treaty with King Benedict, your father. We did not steal anything or kill anyone” Jensen bites out, resisting his urge to spit on the floor at the foul accusations being leveled at him and Kane.  

Christian studies the Prince, concerned at the devil’s nonchalance despite having two gun trained on him. Something isn’t right here. 

“My _father_ had no business making any sort of treaty with you. It is null and void!” The Prince nearly bellows, spit flying in his rage as he finally gives in to the tempest raging with him. 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Christian cocks a round into the chamber, gun clicking with the sound as he readies his aim further. Jensen does the same, preparing to fire on the growing threat in front of them. 

“You’re not getting Misha back. And now you aren’t getting human cooperation in fighting the Darkness. I thought you were smarter than this” Jensen say flatly, effecting a smirk. 

“Why would I want to fight the darkness?” The Prince nearly cackles as if Jensen is the funniest thing he’s heard in ages. “I _am_ the Darkness!” He grins smugly at the surprised expression on the two men’s faces. “If my _father_ hadn’t gone behind my back, I would have had the excuse I wanted to attack Athena in the first place! No matter, I’m nothing if not flexible” He grins menacingly, pleased that the humans finally fell into his trap. 

Christian fires, the pop filling the chamber again and again as he pumps several rounds into the Prince, each one causing the reptilian Baael to stagger backwards. Jensen keeps his aim trained on the Prince, noticing a distinct lack of blood across his chest despite Christian’s aim being true. 

The Prince laughs menacingly and only grows louder when Christian stops firing, red faced and confused. “You fool! Your human weapons won’t work on me!” The Prince cackles and tears what’s left of his jacket away, revealing the heavy plates across his chest and abdomen. Bits of ammunition dot his heavy armor but it is clear the damage is inconsequential.  

Jensen quickly fires at the Prince’s head, but just before his round reaches its target a flash of blue light envelops the Prince and Jensen’s bullet falls dead in the air and hits the ground with a tinny clatter. 

“Now now, that is unnecessary” The Prince chides, confidently stepping towards the two humans. Christian bends his knees into a crouch, preparing to launch himself at the Prince, but he find himself locked in place and unable to shift his feet. 

Pellegrino reaches for Jensen, who is also frozen in place, and fists his scaly red fingers in the Captains jacket as he yanks him forward. “Since you refuse to return my property, you can take its place” He snarls, hot breath puffing in Jensen’s face as green eyes clench closed. 

Jensen reaches out, blindly grappling with the Prince’s grip as Christian growls beside him with rage. The force holding Jensen in place lessens so the Prince can drag him forward and Jensen takes the opportunity to land a solid kick to the Devil’s knee. It resounds with a sickening crunch and Pellegrino screams in pain. 

The distraction releases the hold on Christian and the hand falls from Jensen’s chest. The two humans waste no time in attacking. Jensen tackles the Prince with a strained grunt, hard contact with the bony plates covering the Prince knocking the air from his lungs as they fall to the floor. 

Jensen doesn’t have time to gasp, let alone regain his ability to breathe, as Pellegrino rolls them, placing himself on top of the human and lands a solid punch that ends with a loud crunch as Jensen’s cheek bone caves slightly. 

Christian lands a hard kick against the Prince’s ribs, knocking him off balance enough for Jensen to break free and scramble to his feet. The Prince hits hard against the table in the center of the room, splintering it’s wooden legs as the top crashes loudly to the floor. 

Jensen stands, facing the Prince, and wipes a hand across his cheek to remove the blood pooling there from the gash running over his broken cheek bone. He winces in pain, licking blood from his lips and leveling a feral glare towards Pellegrino. He shakes his head to the side, breathing heavily as he steps closer to the Prince.  

Laughter emanates from the Prince, who has climbed to his feet and is grinning like this is all some big joke. He steps back from the two approaching men and reaches for something hidden on the cabinet behind him. Christian lunges but isn’t fast enough as the Prince pulls out a blaster and fires, catching the long haired human directly in the stomach. 

Christian grunts in surprised pain as he falls to the ground, blood quickly pooling around his still form. Jensen takes a half step back on shock, eyeing the weapon now pointed at him as he scans the room for his gun. He sees it's pearl grip peeking out from underneath the wreckage of the table, behind the Prince. Useless. 

Jensen takes a step back, mind racing for a plan. Any plan. 

"Since you refuse to return my pet, you can take his place" Pellegrino sneers, a wicked grin snaking up his face as his icy blue eyes narrow to lizard like slits. His tail twitches irritably behind him even as a deep sense of satisfaction sweeps through him. "You'll be so much fun to break. I can already tell you have so much more fight than that _bitch"_ He hisses and holds the blaster steady as he steadily approaches the green eyed human, fear plastered over the man's features. 

For every step the Prince takes forward, Jensen takes one backward. His gaze keeps flicking to his friend laying bloody and motionless on the floor behind the Prince. Jensen resists the urge to pray that his friend isn't dead. And where the hell is Jared? 

Jensen realizes that he's backing himself into a wall just before he hits it. He freezes, rushing to a plan. He doesn't have a way out. It's either through Pellegrino or let himself be caught. "You'll never have me!" Jensen bites as he surges forward, taking the Prince by surprise as he slams into the Devil, trying to take him to the floor.  

Pellegrino dodges, mostly, Jensen barely clipping him as he goes tumbling past. He pulled the trigger in his sudden movement, clipping Jensen and quickly bloodying the human's arm.  

Jensen skids to a stop, his shoulder dragging on the wooden floor and tearing at his jacket. His arm throbs where he knows he was hit, not far from the shot he took during Misha's rescue. He rolls, eliciting a quiet groan from Christian where he bumps the nearly unconscious soldier. Jensen tries to scramble over his friend to reach his gun, but a heavy boot presses hard on his back, between his shoulder blades, pinning him down to the floor. 

Jensen stretches as far as he can, his fingertips falling just inches short of being able to brush the barrel of his gun. Pellegrino presses down harder, shifting his heel to dig into the bone of his shoulder, as he leans down and presses the barrel of his blaster firmly to the back of Jensen’s head. “Move again and it will be for the last time” The Prince hisses in Jensen’s ear and the green eyed man goes still. 

Jensen’s mind races for a plan, he knows he’s trapped but Jared is still out there somewhere. Where the hell is he? Jensen hears the stomp of more boots entering the room, but he doesn’t recognize the pattern of footsteps as Jared’s. He knows his friend too well. 

Firm hands grasp his arms, paying no attention to the bleeding gash, and haul him to his feet. “Take him to the hold” The Prince dismisses as the hands drag him towards the door. The last thing he sees is Pellegrino’s serpentine grin as he nudges Christian’s body with his toe. 


	11. Where is everyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to update this at least every Tuesday. I think there will be 3, maybe 4 more chapters and I have ideas for a sequel. Comments are welcome!

The first thing that he notices is a strangely steady beeping. _Beep, Beep_ _Beep_ _, Beep._ The tone is annoying. Short and clipped, soft yet abrasive to his throbbing head. He tries to turn away from the obnoxious sound, but the motion elicits a groan as pain threatens to split his skull. His eyes won't obey his commands to open, his limbs refuse to obey his demands to move. Everything is heavy, a great weight pressing down on him and that _noise._  

"Shhh, don't try to move" A voice hisses from his side. Cold and unfamiliar, yet strangely concerned. "Just breathe" The voice continues softly, the light hiss nearly sounding like a lisp but just on the side of not quite right. 

He struggles, the fog in his mind clearing just enough to remember being shot. His stomach sears in pain at the resurgence of the memory and he tries in vain to cover his middle, but his arms still refuse to cooperate. 

"Lieutenant, please. You need to stay calm" The voice is more urgent but does nothing to sooth Christian's struggles as he comes back to himself.  

"Jensen" Christian forces his cotton coated tongue to form the words and they come out as a gritty slur. His blue eyes blink open slowly, but slam shut of their own accord under the needle like intensity of the light. He renews his struggle to move his limbs, to sit up, but he may as well be buried in sand. 

“I assume you mean Emissary Ackles? He and another human are alive but taken prisoner” The voice informs him nervously. The fog begins to lift in Christian’s mind and he realizes the voice is one he’s heard before. “Stop. Please, Lieutenant” The voice urges, low and harsh and clawed hands grip his shoulders, pressing him back. 

“Have to help” Christian grunts, fighting against the grip holding him down. He feels stronger with each passing moment and he forces his eyes open, regardless of the pain the lights cause. 

“Listen to me” The voice snaps, demanding to be obeyed. Christian stops his struggles for a moment, trying to force his crystal blue eyes to focus on the Baael holding him down. He’s certain he is still on Perdition, the last thing he remembers is getting shot when the Prince used some supernatural powers on them. “The Prince thinks you’re dead. If you want to help your friend, it would be best to keep it that way.” Christian blinks as the man speaks, violet eyes coming into focus and he recognizes the face as Osric, the Baael physician. He relaxes fractionally when he realizes that this man might be trying to help. 

“Osric. How?” Christian croaks out, he knows how badly he was wounded. He should have bled out, and yet he barely feels any pain. 

“We have a salve that accelerates healing. It works on humans” Osric shrugs, glad that the man is finally calming down. He understands how disorienting it must be to wake up so groggily in a strange place. 

“Why are you helping me?” Christian asks, ducking his eyes slightly to hide his grimace as he forces his arms to push him into a sitting position. He glances down and sees that his shirts have been removed and a faint line on his stomach is all that remains of his wound.  

This time, it is the doctor who ducks his head. “I overheard the Prince, he’s behind the darkness that is devouring the galaxy. He murdered our _king._ He wants to destroy everything” Osric pleads for understanding. He couldn’t sit back and watch, not when there’s a chance that he could do something to help stop Pellegrino. 

“So you betray your Prince?” Christian asks, making sure he is understanding this man correctly as he pushes himself so his legs hang over the edge of the hospital bed. 

Osric nods and bites at his lip, his sharp teeth on the verge of drawing blood. “I can’t stand by and watch him destroy everything King Benedict had worked toward. Not when you might be able to help” Osric can’t quell the flutter of unease tearing through his stomach. Aiding in the human’s escape the first time was enough to get himself killed, but helping them now goes beyond treason.  

“You realize my version of helping will be to free my friends, and then kill Pellegrino right?” Christian asks seriously. He needs to be sure this Baael understands his intentions. Osric nods in response, swallowing thickly against the dread threatening to rise in his throat. 

\----- 

It feels like hours that he’s been sitting in the dark, listening to the wail of emergency alarms. No one comes for him, and Misha can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not. His butt is long past numb from sitting with his knees drawn up in front of him. He knows it might be more comfortable, at least for a little while, if he were to shift his weight forward and kneel; but the thought of kneeling on the floor again send riotous emotions through him that threaten to displace his breakfast. He can’t bring himself to do it. 

So he sits, numbing pressure on his tailbone be damned. He closes his eyes and pictures the stars, pretends that nothing is wrong. He pretends that every explosion he hears in the distance, every tremor that passes through Athena is nothing of importance. He lets his mind drift to what earth might be like, he pretends that Jensen takes him home to Texas. He pretends that Jensen’s family adores him and he pretends that he finds a job. He imagines a life where he can help people, maybe people like himself, and that maybe he even has family out there somewhere. 

He startles himself with that thought. Family? He doesn’t remember ever having a family, his earliest memories are of the older slaves at the brothel hugging him tightly and telling him to be strong and obey their masters, no matter what they ask. He remembers a slave named Collins who took care of him when there was no one else. What if his family sold him to begin with? What if they don’t want him? What if they don’t exist? Maybe Chad’s tests were wrong, maybe he isn’t from earth. Maybe he was born into slavery like he always thought. What if his family is like Chad? Still looking for him after all these years. Broken hearted over not knowing if he’s alive or dead? Happy or hurt? What if he’s causing someone to suffer by refusing to let Chad check? Hot tears prickle in the corners of his blue eyes at the thought and a new kind of sob threatens to escape his chest as the realization dawns on him. What if he always has been cherished and loved? What if he was taken from a loving family who has no idea what happened to him? 

He realizes that he needs to know. If the test doesn’t make any matches, what has he lost? But if it does? He needs to talk to Chad. Now. 

Misha slowly unfolds himself from the closet, mustering all of his bravery to leave Jensen’s room in spite of the blaring sirens as he makes for the infirmary. He has the route memorized by now, and the soldiers rushing up and down the halls don’t even spare him a glance. He forces one foot in front of the other, forcing steady breathing to keep the hammering of his heart under control as he fights the urge to plaster himself against the wall every time a group of soldiers run by.  

The journey to the infirmary is short, but it feels like a small eternity passes before Misha arrives half terrified that he’s going to get in trouble for being out of his room. He pushes through the door, only to find the small hospital crowded with bleeding soldiers. A small sea of khaki and green stained with red. More doctors than Misha has ever seen scramble between the men, examining injuries and Misha is about to turn back when a firm hand grips his shoulder and spins him around. 

“What are you doing here!” Chad hisses, squinty gaze raking over Misha. “Are you hurt?” He demands, softer and concerned. 

“No, no. I didn’t mean….I didn’t know” Misha starts, panic building at his obvious bad timing as he glances at all of the injured men.  

“Misha. What?” Chad asks even softer, sensing Misha’s growing anxiety. He doesn’t even bother with his usual playful banter. He doesn’t have time. 

“I want you do that test, to see if I have family” Misha blurts out, terrified that he’s going to be in trouble for interrupting Chad’s work for something so stupid.  

Chad’s eyes widen at his words, surprised that the blue eyed man in front him changed his mind. “That's great. Really. But it’s going to have to wait” Chad smiles tensely, he is glad but now really isn’t the time. 

“I’m sorry” Misha mutters, lungs straining to breath as his heart rate increases. He glances around, looking for an escape route and wishing he could just melt into the floor. He shouldn’t be here. He should have just stayed in the closet. 

“Hey, hey…it’s ok.” Chad tries to assure, reaching to lightly grip the other man's elbow, but he knows it sounds flat. “Look, um…since you’re here. Maybe you can help us out a bit?” Chad offers, they need someone to help triage. 

“Help?” Misha stutters out, swallowing hard. How can he possibly be of any use here? 

“Yeah. These tags here. I need you to hand them out based on injuries. Head injuries and severe bleeding get red, broken bones get yellow and non-life threatening stuff gets green. If someone is unconscious, holler for a doctor.” Chad explains briefly. The system is more complicated than that, but for someone with no medical training it would be pointless to explain. “You can do this” Chad encourages, letting his hand drift up to the man's shoulder when he sees Misha’s cerulean eyes go wide with fear and the man starts shaking his head. 

Misha looks at Chad like he’s a crazy person. He can’t believe that Chad thinks he could be of any help whatsoever. He has to realize that Misha doesn’t know how to do anything of value, right? He can’t do this, he’ll just screw it up. He can’t do anything right. 

“Misha. I need your help. You can do this” Chad reaches for Misha’s shoulder again, grounding him and trying to draw him out of the tail spin of self-deprecation that he sees the man falling into.  

Misha forces a breath, giving himself some much need air and decides to try. Chad thinks he can do this. Chad has faith in him. He can do this. He steels himself, reaching for the tags still gripped tightly in Chad’s hand. “Ok” He forces a firm nod, trying not to give away how terrified he actually is. He closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose and settles himself. He needs to stay calm if he’s going to do this. He turns away from Chad, swallowing the bile that threatens to rise from his stomach before making his way to a cluster of men sitting just inside the door. 

\--- 

Jensen was dragged to a small concrete room. It was empty save for himself, not even a cot to rest on or a toilet should he need one. He was thrown through the door roughly, landing on his knees as the door slammed shut to shroud him in silence. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, the air struggling to enter his lungs and his bright green eyes slam shut against the onslaught of his panic. Christian is likely dead, Jared too probably. It won’t be long until he himself is dead, he would rather die that become the Prince’s plaything. 

He gets to his feet, pacing restlessly for what could be hours. There are no windows to cast shadows on the wall with the passage of time and he fights with himself to avoid filling the silence with curses and angered mutterings. The ceiling itself seems to glow, providing the only light in his cell and just when he starts to calm enough to think about forming a plan, the light is extinguished and he finds himself in complete and suffocating darkness. 

\---- 

Jared wakes in the dark. For a moment, he doesn’t realize that his eyes are, in fact, open and trying to see. He’s flat on his back, the surface hard and cold. Unforgiving. He groans at the splitting pain that turning his head causes. How did he get here? 

He doesn’t remember. The last thing he remembers is ducking around the corner as Christian and Jensen kicked down the door to Perdition’s command center. He struggles to sit up, the darkness enveloping him disconcertingly as he fights to remember. The pain in his head suggests that he was knocked out, and the pain in ankle suggests that he fell. He gingerly tests his theory with a roll of his foot, making circles and wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through the joint. Perfect. 

He almost doesn’t notice the silence as he takes inventory of himself, but it catches up with him quickly and is soon smothering him. He tells himself that it's just whatever room he’s in, and not his senses being taken away. Worry surges in him as his subconscious remains unconvinced. He can hear the sound of his movements, his own muffled groans, he _knows_ his hearing is fine. _He knows_. He isn’t convinced. 

Where are Jensen and Kane? 

\--- 

“Where are my friends?” Christian nearly growls at Osric, forcing himself to remember that the Baael doctor is trying to _help._ His icy blue eyes bore into the other man, demanding answers in this uncertain situation. He still doesn't entirely trust the other man. 

“They’re in the holding cells. I’m supposed to take your body to the incinerator, which is in the wing next to the cells in the lower levels of the ship” Osric explains, gesturing to the floor beneath them. 

“How do I get to them?” Christian asks, ideas flicking through his head light a bulb with a bad ballast. Nothing seems plausible, only haphazard and insurmountable before the next idea takes its place. 

“The cells are solid and soundproof, the only way in is through the door but they’re poorly guarded.” Osric replies with a sly smile. “I can get you down there, and get the three of you back up if you play dead” His smile widens, holding up a hypodermic filled with toxic looking bright blue liquid. 

"What the hell is that?!" Christian's eyes widen as voice drops dangerously low. 

"It's a sedative, in case either of your friends don't understand the plan" Osric grins wickedly, placing a cap over the end of the needle and tucking it into his lab coat. "It's perfectly safe". 

Christian isn't convinced, but his options are few. Osric has helped him twice now, and Misha countless times before, there is nothing to tell him that he can't trust the doctor. He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “Ok. Let's do it” Christian nods firmly, laying down on the gurney and tucking himself into the black body bag Osric had set up on it. He tucks the blaster Osric hands him against his side, ready at a moment’s notice if he needs it to be. 

Osric makes short work of zipping the bag and purposefully neglects to tie the straps to hold Christian down. He doesn't think the human would appreciate that very much. He has half a thought of asking the humans to take him with them when they make their escape. His actions will not allow him to have much a life amongst his people after this is all said and done. 

The trip to the lower level goes smoothly, soldiers too busy rushing about their tasks and supporting the ongoing battle with Athena to pay him any attention. The gurney's wheel turn nearly silently over the smooth floor and Osric has to fight the temptation to warn Christian about the upcoming bumps as they enter the elevator. He doesn't think anyone is paying attention, but he decides not to risk it. 

Their luck holds out when they reach the holding cells. Osric checks the entire corridor before unzipping the bag containing Christian and shooing the human towards the cells holding his friends. Osric does not want to be the first face the captive humans see when the doors open.  

The first door reveals a very angry Jensen. The green eyed man shouts a threat and barrels towards the opening as soon as the door opens. He nearly tackles Christian before his eyes adjust to the light enough to see that his friend is standing there. His jaw drops in shock at the sight. He thought Christian was _dead._ How is this possible?  

"You coming?" Christian drawls out waving his hands like Jensen is an idiot. 

Green eyes blink viciously, making sure that Christian standing there isn't some sort of illusion. He shakes his head, forcing himself to move. "Where's Jared?" He asks, saving the question of how in hell is Christian alive and seemingly unharmed for later. 

"Down here somewhere" An unfamiliar voice hisses lightly from the shadows. Jensen spins around to face the direction the voice came from just as a red skinned man in a white lab coat steps out from around the corner wearing a shy smile. 

"What's going on here!" Jensen mutters, a hint of panic coloring his tone as he quickly glances between Christian and the Baael. 

"He's a friend" Christian holds his hands out in front of himself placatingly, urging his friend to stay calm. "He's helping us escape" Christian fixes his gaze on Jensen, pleading with the green eyed man as Osric watches from a safe distance. 

"We don't have time Lieutenant, we need to hurry" Osric says in a hushed tone that amplifies the hissing quality of his speech. Jensen recoils slightly, but forces himself to go along with this when he sees Christian's firm nod. 

"Do you know where they took Jared?" Christian bites out towards Jensen, shouting in a whisper as he opens one empty cell after another. 

"No, they just threw me in" Jensen points back to his cell as he moves to check cells on the other side of the hall. He wonders why the Baael need so many holding cells for one ship. 

"Got him!" Osric whispers as loudly as he can when he opens a cell containing a human.  

"Stay away from me!" The human threatens from the floor, trying in vain to get to his feet.  

"It's ok" The alien holds his hands up to show he isn't a threat, but he still keeps his distance. "He's hurt" Osric informs Christian and Jensen as they run to their friend's side and hoist him up between their shoulders. 

"Come on. You all need to get in the bin and play dead" Osric motions towards a large bin that resembles a laundry cart more than anything. The three humans glance at each other in disbelief that the three large men will fit in the tiny bin. "We don't have all day" Osric hisses, gesturing urgently for them to climb in. 

"Oh no" Jared shakes his head. It would be hard enough for the other two men to fit, but getting his lanky 6'4" frame into that will mean folding like a pretzel. 

"We've got to" Christian urges, grunting with the effort to hoist Jared over the side and settle him in. Jensen climbs in after and Osric holds the bin still while Jensen helps Christian over the side. 

"You need to arrange yourselves to look like you were dumped in" Osric motions for the men to adjust. Jared rolls to lay on his side with Jensen sprawled halfway on top of him. Christian raises his brows skeptically before settling in, placing his foot nearly in Jared's face with a smirk. "Everyone good? I have a sedative if you think you need it?" Osric offers, silently thanking the gods that it doesn't seem that he'll be needing the bright blue solution. 

"We'll manage" Jared grunts through clenched teeth, not at all happy about Kane's boot in his face or the smirk on the blue eyed man's face. _I will not complain. I will not complain_ repeats through his mind like a mantra. He'll make Kane pay for this indignity later. 

All three men force their bodies to relax as Osric throws a thin sheet over them. Hopefully the sheet will be enough to hide any obvious signs of life. The plan is to take them to the autopsy room where there are weapons already hidden. 

The trip back to the infirmary is even less eventful that the trip to the holding cells and they're there within the span of 10 minutes. Osric gives them the all clear once they're safely behind closed doors. They'll need to move quickly if they're going to take the Prince by surprise. There is no doubt he'll go looking for his new toys once the fighting slows down. 

"I'm going to kill that bastard!" Jensen grates bitterly after climbing out of the bin. Christian and Jensen lift Jared out, his ankle alarmingly swollen inside his boot. 

"Get that off him" Osric directs toward the two other humans, indicating Jared's heavy boot. The doctor makes short work of examining the foot after Jensen gently pulls it free. Jared doesn't say a word, but he eyes the Baael doctor suspiciously. "It looks like a severe sprain" Osric says calmly, forcing eye contact with Jared. "My name is Osric, by the way" He gives Jared a miniscule smile, remembering his manners. 

"Jared" The man grates, the pain in his ankle increasing by the moment. "Got any painkillers doc?" He flashes a half and thoroughly unconvincing smile at the doctor as his hazel eyes shift closer to brown with the pain. 

"I have a salve that can heal this in minutes, but it is incredibly painful on humans. I have used it to heal Lieutenant Kane, and Misha many times when he was _here"_ Osric swallows heavily, unsure how the mention of the slave will sit with the three humans.  

"Ugh. Bring it on" Jared groans, leaning back and slamming his head against the cushioned table beneath him. He's heard of this magical salve of the Baael's. It can heal nearly any injury, even bring people back from the brink of death. It will be worth the temporary pain. 

"Do you know what causes it to hurt humans?" Jensen asks sheepishly, eyeing his friend with worry. He felt a wave of nausea at the mention of Misha's enslavement with the Baael, and the thought of him being injured enough to warrant the doctor's attentions. His green eye's search Osric's face for information, and he sees pained regret looking back at him. 

"I never could figure it out" He smiles sadly, regretting this simple fact because of the pain it caused the blue eyed slave. He hated causing the man more pain than he was already experiencing. "Alright, Jared. I need to strap you down. This is going to hurt" He starts laying straps across Jared's chest and legs despite the man's weak protests. Jensen and Christian watch with apprehension but believe Osric's description of the pain. He opens the bottle of salve, pouring some onto a sanitary sponge before lowering it to Jared's wounded ankle. He lets the sponge rest over the worst of the injury, letting it go to work. 

Jared throws his head back violently, fighting against the restraints and clenching his jaw tightly to avoid crying out. The salve burns with the fury of a thousand fire ants, travelling up his leg and swirling around his body, consuming him. 

His friends watch Jared thrash in horror, it looks like he's being tortured and the man is only half successful at keeping himself silent. Pained grunts and groans spill from his throat in a torrent as his face reddens with the effort of trying to stay still. They understand the need for the restraints now. 

Jared finally goes slack after what feels like an eternity. The redness disappears from his face, leaving him pale and clammy. Osric removes the sponge from Jared's leg, wiping the remaining salve off with a damp cloth. He turns towards Jensen, considering the blood stained shirt the man is wearing. "You're hurt to" He mentions, just short of asking if Jensen wants any treatment. 

"No" Jensen says plainly, taking a step back. "I'll be fine" He shakes his head seriously, terrified of the salve being used on his arm as well. He will be just fine, thank you very much. 

Christian holds back a chuckle at the terror he sees written in Jensen's wide candy apple green eyes.  "Don't worry Jen, we just needed Jared to be able to walk" He claps his friend on his shoulder, glancing at the still unconscious man on the table. 

Jared groans as he wakes, lifting a hand to rub his pounding head. "Ugh. Never. Again" He says through a moan, testing his ankle nonetheless. He's pleased to find the pain is gone, everything feels normal other than the aftershocks of pain still slicing through him.  

"Give yourself a few minutes. You'll feel better quickly" Osric reassures, and doesn't miss the heated glare coming from the Emissary.  

"You used that stuff on Misha?" Jensen nearly growls, the horror of what he just saw Jared go through making him see red when he considers Misha had gone through the same. 

Osric swallows hard before nodding. "I did. I sedated him after the second time though. We didn't have time to do that with Jared" Osric gestures towards the man still recovering on the table. "I never hurt him more than I had to" He adds in a whisper, trying to justify his actions. He did the best he could for the slave. 

Jensen nods but clenches his jaw. His teeth groan under the pressure as his jaw ticks in protest. He doesn't trust himself to say anything more. Misha spoke well of the doctor, and the Baael is clearly not to blame for his friend's ( _boyfriend's?)_ torture. 

“We need a plan” Christian breaks the tense silence. Osric tucked a few blasters into the autopsy room before they rescued Jensen and Jared, but they’re going to need more than just firepower. 

“Jay, you ok?” Jensen asks, seeking to confirm that the color returning to his friend’s face means that he is actually recovering. Jared nods despite still feeling light headed and exhausted. 

“We’re not far from the docks, if you can steal a ship your escape should be manageable” Osric urges, hoping the humans simply opt to save themselves instead of going up against Pellegrino again. 

“Oh no. I’m not leaving until that bastard is dead” Jensen bites out, not needing to explain who he’s talking about. He paces the room furiously, trying to come up with a plan that won’t get them killed. They clearly had underestimated the Prince before, they won’t make the same mistake twice. 

“Jensen, I understand you want him dead; but maybe it would be better to come back with reinforcements.” Jared tries to reason and the green eyed man knows that his friend isn’t wrong, but it’s just so hard to let this go. They might not get another chance. 

“We know he’s behind the darkness, if we stop him; we stop everything” Jensen argues, stopping his pacing to level his gaze at Jared. He wants to end this. Now. 

“Jensen’s right. We could stop this right now. But he has powers that we can’t begin to know how to fight" Christian fights a surge of nausea at the memory of being held in place, unable to even try to protect themselves. He and Jensen turns towards Osric, studying the doctor intensely. "Do you know anything about those powers?" Christian narrows his eyes, scrutinizing and daring to hope that maybe Osric knows something useful. 

"I don't know" Osric shakes his head, he's never seen the Prince do anything unusual but he has no reason to doubt the two humans. "What kind of powers?" He asks, brow raised in curiosity. His people don't have special powers, whatever the Prince is up to either has to be some sort of new technology or witchcraft. He's heard rumors of a powerful space witch, but he can't imagine that Pellegrino would make a deal with a being so ancient and evil. 

"He was able to hold us in place without touching us. We couldn't move" Jensen explains, glance between his two friends. "He also stopped bullets in the air. Some sort of bright light" Jensen waves his hands, trying to demonstrate how the Prince just held out his hand and the bullets dropped like lead weights. 

Osric hums in thought, trying to think of logical explanations for what the humans say happened. "Was the light blue? And did it come from behind Prince Pellegrino?" He asks, an idea creeping into his mind. 

"Yeah. To both. It came from behind and wrapped around him" Christian nods, gesturing wildly.  

Jared glances between his friends and the Baael doctor in confusion. He was jumped from behind, he didn't see any of this. 

Osric hums again, reaching a clawed hand up to stroke his chin gently. "It's possible the light was a magnetic pulse of some sort. I've head of a defense weapon in development that could do what you're describing. But it hasn't actually been made yet as far as I know" The doctor turns, beginning to pace. He can't believe the depth of his Prince's deception. He had suspected the Prince killed Sheppard. The man had blaster wounds and he saw that both of the humans had guns that day. It would have been impossible for them to have caused Mark's injuries. It seems that Sheppard's death was just part of the Prince's plan to lure the human's back to Perdition. There has to be something else to this. Why did he kill his father? Why is he going against everything the Baael people have always valued? 

"Any idea how we would disable such a weapon?" Jared asks hopefully, wanting to not feel as useless as he's been these last few minutes. His hazel eyes swirl with color as they search the deep violet depths of Osric's widened eyes. 

"I'm a doctor" Osric says slowly, drawing out the words like he's talking to a child "Not a weapon specialist" He shakes his head. He wishes he could be of more help, but really, what do they expect from him? 

"What about that dart gun you shot Sheppard with before?" Jensen suggests, trying to think of something that might be within the doctor's means to help.  

"Yes!" Orsic exclaims, ceasing his pacing to smile at Jensen appreciatively. The green eyed man shies back slightly from the sharp and toothy smile but Osric is not deterred. "I can fix it with a dose strong enough to kill if I have to" He quickly steps over to a locked cabinet in the corner, digging through the pockets of his lab coat as he goes. 

"How many do you have?" Jared asks, head cocked. He suspects that he knows what Jensen was talking about. He tries to get to his feet, he's feeling better by the minute and is impatient to get moving. If the Baael had gotten the drop on him in that hallway, he suspects the corporals they had left to guard their ships have already met worse fates. 

"I have three" Osric grins as he slides a key into the lock. The door clicks open without fanfare and the three humans peer inside. Nothing looks remarkable, a collection of medical supplies but Osric knows exactly what he's looking for. He shoves packages of gauze aside and reaches into the back, pulling out one tranquilizer gun after another and sets them on the table behind him. 

The three humans and the Baael smile at each other. They've found unlikely allies as they formulate an escape plan. It is decided that they're going to take Osric with them back to Athena, assuming they get out of this alive. His life is forfeit if the Baael find out what he's done, what treason he's about to commit.  

\---- 

The flow of injured men and women never slows as Misha darts between them. His initial nervousness wore off quickly in his assignment. He found that classifying the injuries in front of him came naturally and his confidence grows with each new patient.  

He comes to a skidding stop in front of a young man clutching his stomach tightly. Thick, red liquid seeps out from underneath his fingers and his complexion is pale and ashy. The man is barely conscious. Misha takes a pulse, like Chad had shown him, and he can barely find it. This man needs attention now. He calls for a doctor. 

The doctor that arrives is not Chad, but he's find to the blue eyed man nonetheless. He directs Misha to collect a wheelchair and to help him move the barely conscious soldier. He helps bring the man back to the surgery room and starts undressing him as the doctor keeps up a steady stream of orders. The former slave obeys each and every direction as if it were his life depending on it. The young man is quickly stripped and cleaned for surgery, Misha holding a thick blanket of gauze over his bleeding stomach. 

Just as the nurse reaches to take over, a pale hand reaches up to grip Misha's wrist. For being barely awake, the grip is surprisingly strong and the young soldier tries to speak. His pale green eyes plead with Misha, beg him to come closer, and Misha leans down so that his ear is barely an inch from the man. 

"You're the slave?" The man barely breathes out, Misha can barely understand the weak whisper but the man has his full attention nonetheless. Misha's wide blue eyes find the other man's in shock, but the soldier isn't done. "Ackles. Kane. Dead." He croaks out as the effects of the anesthesia begin to take hold. 

Misha's world stops moving. People buzz around him, telling him to get out of the way but he doesn't hear. The word _dead_ rings in his ears until it is his only focus. 

Dead. His heart fractures, he can't breathe. Someone shoves him into a chair and Chad's squinty blue eyes dance in front of him. 

"They're dead" Misha wants to wail and scream and shout, but he isn't sure if the words actually pass his lips. Chad's lips press into a firm line. They can't be dead.


	12. Resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains violence, it isn't terrible but you've been warned. As always, kudos and comments are awesome!

Misha’s world condenses to a vacuum of silence. He sees Chad trying to shake him, but everything feels so distant. So unreal, like he’s seeing through borrowed eyes. The squinty eyes in front him narrow impossibly further into something that might be anger, but Misha doesn’t care. He stares back, unhearing whatever words might be tumbling from the doctor’s mouth. The rumbles from the ongoing battle continue unheard as Misha recedes inside himself. 

He watches as Chad leans back slightly, as those narrow eyes scan him head to toe. He watches, unblinking, as a determined expression comes over Chad. He doesn’t flinch when Chad raises his hand. He sees, yet doesn’t, as that hand accelerates towards him and connects with his cheek. The stinging pain makes Misha blink as he lifts a hand to the heated mark. Sound rushes back in with a particularly violent shake of Athena accompanied by a resounding explosion. He stares at Chad through wide blue eyes, surprised that the doctor would do such a thing. He feels angry at the violation. 

“Sorry. You weren’t responding, had to do something” Chad grumbles, taking Misha's chin in hand to inspect the damage. Misha continues to gawk. It didn’t hurt, not really. 

“They’re dead” Misha mutters, certain this time that the words were granted sound. He lowers his head, he can’t looks at Chad right now. He can’t. He needs to get out of here. He tries to get to his feet but firm hands push him down, holding him to the chair. 

“We don’t know that” Chad presses, not willing to accept the word of one bloodied soldier that the three Texans are dead. Chad has known all three of them for far too long to believe such a thing so easily. They’re hard to kill. 

“He said….” Misha starts, trying to search Chad’s expression for something. Anything to alleviate the crushing panic threatening to strangle him.  

“I know what he said. And I’m saying I don’t believe him” Chad argues, leaving no room for rebuttal.  

“But” Misha starts 

“No. No buts. You are not falling apart. We need you here like a stripper needs glitter” Chad’s gaze bores into Misha as the dark haired man cocks his head in confusion.  

Misha closes his eyes tightly to avoid the intense scrutiny once his initial surprise passes. Chad's dare for him to fall apart, and the threat that exists if he takes that dare. He doesn’t want to disappoint Chad. He doesn’t want to disappoint one of the few people who think he’s worth anything. He doesn’t want to prove Chad wrong. One deep breathe turns into three, forcing thoughts of Jensen and Christian from his mind. He has a task. Nothing else matters. Nothing. 

He opens his eyes as he swallows heavily, the surge of fear and panic ebbing as he forces himself to calm. Settling himself has been a skill that has kept him alive his entire life, if he could use it as a slave; he can use it now. 

“Okay?” Chad asks, brow raised. He watched the calm pass over the other man and settle in place like a mask and can’t help but be amazed. He knows very few people who can center themselves that quickly, hell; very few people are capable of it. Period. The people who can are the ones to become doctors, law enforcement and teachers. 

Misha nods firmly. He can do this. There will be time to panic later, right now he has a job to do. 

“Good” Chad pats Misha’s knee as he rises, turning back to the his patients and leaving Misha to get back to triage.  

Misha stands, blinking back the thoughts of his friends and returning to the task at hand. The flow of wounded is slowing, the sounds from outside are lessening and he can only hope that means the battle is ending. He doesn’t want to think about what will happen if they lose. 

\--- 

Their plan goes to hell. The battle is slowing and the Prince decided he wanted to check on his new pet.  

His growl of frustration has his men scattering when he opens the cell door and finds the room empty. When the humans had been allowed to escape the first time, when Misha was stolen from him, he thought that his unconscious Captain had been the traitor to allow them to leave. Sheppard paid for his misstep, but now the Prince thinks he may have been mistaken. There is another traitor still on Perdition. 

His thoughts quickly turn towards the doctor that he _knows_ felt pity towards that blue eyed bitch. The growl reverberates deep in his chest as his underlings scatter down the halls to get away from him. He seethes, leaving a dark cloud of anger in his wake as he storms towards the hospital. No soldier dares to follow. 

He slams through to door to the infirmary, breaking it off its hinges and shattering the glass.  

“What was that!” Jared exclaims as loud as he can in a whisper. The three humans instinctively duck behind the half wall in the corner, knowing that intrusion can’t possibly be good. 

“He knows” Osric says with far too much calm for the situation. He resigned himself to die bloody when he tranquilized Sheppard to allow the humans to escape. Now the Prince is coming to collect. He takes a step towards the door but the Prince beats him to it. 

The door blows off its hinges and Osric stands frozen in the middle of the room. The three humans had time to hide, but it won’t help. He knows it won’t help. Pellegrino looms large in the door frame, his red horns hiked high on his head like a crown as his pale eyes cut through the doctor in the middle of the room. 

“You have committed treason” He hisses to the doctor, his voice deadly calm and smile menacing. He will be all too glad to punish the traitor. 

Osric forces himself to stand tall. “What I have done pales next to your treason” He forces his voice to be steady, pushing as much steel as he can into his speech despite the rapid staccato of his heart. He can see the three humans out of the corner of his eyes and he wants to shake his head at the sight of Jensen creeping forward with one of the blasters at the ready. 

“My treason?” Prince Pellegrino questions as he takes another step towards the doctor, reaching out a hand as if to grab him by the throat. Osric tries to move, but he finds himself held in place by an invisible force. “And what, do tell, have _I_ done?” Pellegrino sneers as he tightens his invisible hold on the doctor. Osric has no choice but to be still as the Prince approaches, sneering menacingly.  

Christian studies the Prince’s outstretched hand as he approaches their new ally. He sees a small device at the base of the Prince’s palm and his thoughts dart back to the conversation with Osric about a new weapon.  

Osric tries not to show his fear as the Prince stands close enough for the doctor to feel his hot breath in his face, his pointed teeth dangerously close. “Speak!” The Prince barks, spit flying into Osric’s face as the hold on the doctor’s throat releases just enough. 

“You murdered our King” Osric rasps out, forcing his eyes open to meet the Prince’s. His arms fight the hold, trying to grasp at the Prince’s outstretched hand but he can’t move.  

Christian reaches for Jensen, tapping his shoulder to get his friend’s attention. Once those green eyes are fixed on him he points to his own palm and then back to the Prince. Jensen has the blaster.  

Pellegrino laughs evilly. “Murder my own father? I would never!” He feigns offense but his tone is enough for both Osric and Jared to perk up and listen. “Your precious King is perfectly safe, tucked away and out of sight” His pale blue eyes bore into Osric’s violet ones. “You on the other hand, have committed an unforgivable offense. Not once I suspect, but twice” He bites out, tightening his grip in anger. 

Bright green eyes quickly glance between Kane and the Prince’s outstretched hand. He sees the small blue device that Christian indicated. He doesn’t see anything special about it, but he draws the lines quickly between what he’s seeing and the discussion they had about the Prince’s powers. Maybe. Jared would have a better shot. They need to move quickly. 

Jensen taps his friend’s shoulder, giving him the same signals that Christian had given him. He sees the light of recognition flash across Jared’s hazel eyes and Jensen presses the blaster firmly into his friend’s hand. Before either of the his friends can stop him, Jensen moves. 

He skirts to the other side of the wall shielding his friends before quickly standing and drawing the Prince’s attention.  

The Prince turns towards the sudden movement and his sneer grows when he recognizes the green eyed man who has suddenly appeared. “Ah, my pet. There you are” He releases his hold on Osric as he steps towards Jensen. “I was worried you were trying to escape” Pellegrino smiles sweetly, his sharp teeth threatening as those pale blue eyes burn with fury. 

“I wouldn’t leave without killing you first” Jensen smiles right back, as if he’s explaining something simple to a toddler. He takes a step towards the Prince, hoping that he’s giving Jared a clear shot as he tries to distract Pellegrino. 

“And how do you plan to do _that”_ Pellegrino spits, his horns hiking impossibly higher as his skin reddens even more. He raises his hand and Jensen feels an unseen force pulling at him.  

Jensen can’t help but smile as he sees Osric scramble for one of the tranquilizer guns. He isn’t in Pellegrino’s direct line any more. The Prince’s hold isn’t working on him. 

“Don’t you dare!” The Prince bellows, turning his attention back to Osric. He flings his hand towards the doctor, pushing the man backwards and slamming him into the wall. Jensen charges towards the Prince in his moment of distraction as Jared stands and takes aim. 

Jared narrows his focus, he sees the Prince in profile with his target stretched out in front of him. He takes the shot, the Prince sees him too late and Jensen collides with the Baael a mere second after the shot hits. 

The Prince bellows in pain, his hand; or what’s left of it, spurting blood as the hold on Osric vanishes. The doctor slumps down the wall, unable to hold on to the tranquilizer gun. He can’t move his arms or legs, it doesn’t even hurt as he falls helplessly to the ground, wide eyes taking in the scene before him. 

Jensen rolls with the Prince, the Baael recovering from his shock as he reaches for Jensen with his good hand. Jensen unleashes punch after punch, his knuckles splitting over the Prince’s scaly plates. He doesn’t see the knife. 

Jensen slumps, sudden pain erupts from his side and he slides sideways. His hand instinctively reaches for the sharp sting and he feels wet heat underneath his fingers. He sees a blaster slide towards him, or maybe he’s sliding towards it. It’s hard to tell. He reaches. 

His fingers find the handle, wrapping around the smooth surface as he draws it towards himself. He manages to fall on his back as the Prince scrambles towards him. Blood drips steadily from the Prince's mangled hand as he reaches for Jensen with the other, his face drawn back in an angry sneer. His bloodied hand grips at a controller on his belt and a blue light pulses through the room, enveloping Jensen and the Prince. 

Jensen fires the blaster, his aim is true but his shots glance off the Prince. The blue light is weaker than before, the shield not as strong. Jensen throws the useless weapon away, he doesn't miss the flashes of green bouncing off the light shield from Christian's direction. He can't see Jared from where the Prince has him cornered and Jensen kicks out violently, grunting in pain as he tries to right himself. 

Pain lances through his side as his jacket continues become soaked with his blood. He can feel the Prince's claws gripping his ankle and he forces himself to kick harder. He hears a satisfying crunch when one particular kick connects solidly with Pellegrino's nose and he can't help his smirk when he sees blood beginning to drip. 

"You are mine" The Prince growls, dragging Jensen closer to him reaching for the green eyed man's throat. "I've never played with a human Alpha before. I've been looking forward to this" Pellegrino hisses. Jensen's friends are helpless to intervene through the shield as the Princes claws dig into Jensen's flesh, tearing his arm open before pressing into his neck.  

"And you're NEVER going to!" Jensen grunts as he tries to twist in the vile grip but he feels weaker by the second, his vision swims and the room tilts as he clutches at the hands around his neck. He can't breathe, his waning strength is no match for the Baael Prince. He continues to kick, trying to aim for the Prince's waist, for the small device on his belt. 

He glances down with his wide green eyes, black spots beginning to dance in his vision as he sees the belt within reach. He reaches, straining and the Prince is too busy grinning victoriously to notice that Jensen's attention has been diverted.  

His fingers close around the small remote just as the Prince notices what he's doing. Jensen pulls as hard as he can, squeezes as tightly as he can and the clasp gives, freeing the small black box from the Prince's belt. Jensen has no hope of destroying it, so he uses as much strength as he can muster to send the device flying in Jared's general direction. The shield moves, he and the Prince no longer locked in their own little world. 

A flash of green, brighter than before, fills Jensen's vision before it is painted red. He feels himself falling, slipping on the wet floor as more and more black fills his vision. 

"Jensen!" He hears someone call, but he can't tell where its coming from. He's just so tired.  

\--- 

The flow of wounded stops. The explosions that shake Athena stop. Misha helps Chad until the last patient is taken care of. He forces himself to not think about anything else, but the silence quickly fills the room where so many injured soldiers had been previously.  

Many wounds were serious, the soldier that brought news of Jensen and Christian didn't survive. Misha forces himself not to think about it. Chad falls into a chair next to Misha. Blood is spattered on the doctor's white jacket, his blue scrubs stained beyond recognition.  

"You did good, feathers" Chad offers a small, exhausted, smile to the dark haired man. Misha is covered with his own share of blood, bits of surgical tape litter the scrubs Chad had made him change in to when his regular clothes got too messy.  

Misha doesn't reply, he turns his deep blue gaze on the blond doctor as they sit in the empty room. He lets out a deep breath, still forcing himself not to think but the stillness is making it more and more difficult. 

"You look like a serial killer. Ought to get cleaned up" Chad nudges Misha with his elbow, trying to urge the man out of his thoughts. 

Misha gapes at the man. "You're one to talk" He cringes at the sight the doctor makes as his eyes drift over the man. Chad even has blood in his hair that seeped under the cap he had been wearing. 

"Yeah, well...we can't all make this look good" Chad rolls his eyes and wiggles his eyebrows lasciviously, pulling a small laugh from his dark haired friend. "Come on" He pats Misha's knee as he rises to his feet. "You can use the showers in the back" 

Misha stands and follows Chad through the door in the back of the waiting room. They pass down a short hall and push through a door marked _Medical Staff Only_. Misha pauses at the door's warning but Chad urges him on. 

"You're honorary" He gives Misha a push. "And yes, I've noticed that you can read" He smirks at the surprised blue gaze that flashes his way. They hadn't talked much about what Misha knows and doesn't know, but it didn't take long for him to notice that Misha was reading everything around him. 

Misha smiles weakly. He wasn't intentionally keeping it a secret, but it still takes him by surprise that Chad apparently knew all along. "Have you heard anything?" He finally asks, allowing his mind to worry about his friends. He doesn't need to tell Chad what he's talking about. 

"I haven't. Well go find out after we get cleaned up. Don't want to go walking around Athena looking like zombie hunters now do we?" Chad smirks, handing Misha a couple of clean towels and scrubs before pushing him into a room marked _showers._  

Misha intends to make short work of cleaning himself. He strips out of the bloodied clothes, letting his eyes trace his body in the mirror. He hasn't been free for very long, but he already is noticing changes. His ribs don't stick out quite as much, his skin has better color. Even through his exhaustion he can see that his eyes are brighter and maybe even bluer than before. He forces himself to smile. He looks almost like a normal human. He still needs a haircut. 

The hot water flows over his shoulders, making him groan in appreciation. These little things, like being able to take a shower any time he'd like; and have them be hot, still amaze him. Jensen looked at him like he was crazy on his first trip to the showers. It took a good ten minutes for the green eyed man to convince Misha that it was OK, that he was allowed to use the shower _and_ take as long as he'd like.  

In the end it was those maddening green eyes threatening to laugh at him that convinced Misha. He had snatched the towel from Jensen's hands and pulled the curtain shut with so much force he nearly ripped it down. Jensen had laughed at that, and Misha stood there with his back to the man picturing the crinkles he knew were adorning the corners of his eyes and the flash of perfectly straight, white teeth peeking out from behind those perfect plush and pink lips. Misha remembers another problem he had that day also, one that was a little farther south. He stares down at himself and he huffs at the simple fact that he doesn't think he could have that problem right now if he tried. 

He lets the water run over him, washing most of the blood away before he even bothers to scrub. He scrubs the shampoo into his hair and thinks for at least the hundredth time that he needs a haircut. Every time he mentions it though, Jensen shakes his head and smiles shyly. He thinks that maybe Jensen likes his shaggy hair, so he hasn't pushed the issue. Jensen can't be gone. 

A sob tries to force its way out of his chest, but Misha swallows it down. Breathing heavily through his nose as he scrubs the soap out of his hair under the water that’s gotten too hot. It's punishing, painful and it refuses to let him forget that while he's here enjoying a shower; his friends are out there somewhere. Probably enjoying no such luxuries. He refuses to believe they're dead. If Chad doesn't believe it, Misha won't either. 

Chad is waiting when Misha finally emerges, his blond hair scrubbed clean and standing up in wet spikes. He's wearing his glasses again, looking older and wiser than his personality gives away. Misha can't help but notice that he's an attractive man, when he isn't talking. "What took you so long, cupcake?" Chad bumps against Misha's shoulder. 

It hasn't escaped Misha's notice that Chad is touching him, casually, more and more often. Misha doesn't even jump away any more like he did at first. He still doesn't like to be touched, but he's come to accept simple touches from Chad and Christian; and he'll take everything he can get from Jensen. He can't help but smile to himself and bump Chad back. He's learning to trust. "It takes time to wash properly" Misha turns and eyes Chad critically, feigning a look of disgust and trying his hardest not to smile before sniffing and turning away. 

"Oh you little shit" Chad mutters, trying not to laugh as he throws his arm over Misha's shoulders and pulls him close. 

"Ewww" Misha struggles to pull away, playfully shoving at the doctor and failing at keeping a straight face. 

Chad releases Misha quickly, knowing not to push his luck with the other man. Misha seems to be in a good place at the moment, but it could come crashing down any moment. Especially with the unspoken question between them. Where are Jensen, Kane and Jared? 

"Let's go find out about our friends, shall we?" Chad suggests after a moment's silence. Their feet had been carrying them in the direction of the command center without either of them consciously realizing it. Now that the fighting has stopped, people are hurrying around taking damage inventory and beginning to clean. Many of the young soldiers they pass wear expressions that might suggest they've seen a ghost, or at the very least that might throw up at any moment. The command center is probably still in chaos, but Chad has numbers to deliver to Commander Day and he knows she won't want to be kept waiting. He really just wants to sleep, but he needs to know about Jared. He even cares a little about Jensen. Maybe. A little. 

\---- 

“Jensen!” Jared scrambles to his friend’s side, dragging the Prince’s unmoving body off of his friend and pressing firmly on the deep gash in his side. He doesn’t take the time to question what happened. The Prince landed heavily on top of Jensen as soon as he and Christian fired on him. Jensen is bleeding badly and not responding. 

Christian rushes to Osric, the doctor lays unmoving but his eyes are wide and alert. “Osric, what’s wrong?” Christian asks, trying to prop the doctor up. He fell like a rag doll when the Prince’s hold on him was destroyed “Tell me what to do” 

“The salve” Osric rasps out, breathing is getting more and more difficult. “Back broken” He doesn’t waste words as Christian digs the vial of salve out of Osric’s cabinet. He’ll need to inject it, but Jensen needs it to. 

“Jensen” Osric tries to nod towards the unconscious man when Christian returns. The doctor knows that the human needs attention sooner rather than later. 

Christian quickly pours some out, not dealing with gauze as Jared rips Jensen’s shirt open to expose his wound. The stab goes deep, blood oozes to the surface with every beat of the man's heart and coloring his pale skin crimson. Jensen doesn’t flinch when Christian reaches a salve coated finger deep inside the wound.  

The green eyed man shows no response as Christian quickly spreads the healing liquid around the edges of the stab wound, or when Jared presses a bandage tightly over it. 

Christian quickly returns to Osric, who is now struggling to breathe more and more every passing moment. “What do you need me to do?” Christians asks, actual worry coloring his tone. Osric helped them too much for him to just let the man die. 

“Drawer. Syringe” The doctor gasps out, it feels as if his lung is collapsing but he knows it’s his diaphragm giving up its struggle against the deadening nerves. He watches passively as Christian rifles through the drawers. “Lower” Osric begs, directing the soldier to the next drawer down. 

“Got it” Christian holds up the wrapped hypodermic triumphantly as he hurries back to Osric’s side. 

“Inject it into. The. Back. Lower neck” Osric gasps out with what little breath he can take. Christian looks at him, blue eyes wide and terrified. Osric forces himself to smile at the man, trying to encourage him. 

Christian swallows hard, forcing down the abject terror that fills him at the prospect of injecting anything into someone’s spine. He can do this. 

“I gotta roll you over” He warns the doctor as he turns him as gently as he can manage with only one hand. He hopes he isn’t making it worse. “Tell me where” He whispers, needing confirmation as he cuts away the doctor’s coat and shirts. 

“Touch along my spine” Osric grates. This new position makes it even harder to breathe. 

Christian gingerly touches, Osric’s pale red skin feeling dry and scaly under his fingers. He starts at the base of the Baael’s neck, prodding lower and lower until he finally hears the man rasp _there._ “How much?” Christian gulps. 

“Half the syringe” Osric forces out, his voice barely a whisper. 

Christian forces himself to act. Jared is still tending to Jensen so he gives all his attention to the doctor in front of him. He carefully fills the syringe as he’s seen doctors do. He doesn’t bother with cleaning the injection site, what the point? It takes every last shred of will power he has to keep his eyes open as he watches the needle sink into the skin. He feels resistance but Osric urges him deeper, he can feel the slight drag on bone as the needle pushes by before finally pressing the plunger. 

Osric gasps the tingling sensation that begins to spread from the point in his back. He can tell when Christian withdraws the needle, but can’t help turn himself back over as the man’s wide blue eyes come in to focus. Breathing is coming a little easier, he just needs time. 

“Is it ok?” Worried blue eyes search his face and Osric can’t help the smile that forces its way out. It’s been a long time since _anyone_ cared for him, even though he knows Christian just feels obligated to help. He nods as his eyes drift closed, he just needs to rest. 

Christian decides to leave him in place, he doesn’t want to risk hindering the healing process. The doctor is already breathing better, so he suspects he just needs time. He quickly steps to Jensen’s side. Jared has maneuvered their friend onto a gurney and has been working on cleaning up some of the blood. 

“He gonna be ok?” Jared asks quietly, as if the two unconcious men could be disturbed by their conversation. 

“I think” Christian nods. “How’s Jen?” He asks, reaching to lift the bed of gauze covering his injury. The wound is obviously healing, the bleeding has stopped and the whole of it looks like something days old instead of minutes. 

“I think he’ll be ok” Jared nods. “We should take some of that stuff back with us. Osric to. We gotta get them out of here before we’re discovered” Jared continues to whispers, it just feels right. 

Christian turns and feels for a pulse on the Prince’s neck. Nothing. He lets out a sigh of relief and drags the Prince's body towards the wall. “Yeah, but how?” Christian glances back at the wreckage of the door. They’re out in the open and he’s sure the only reason no one has noticed yet is because of this magical salve of theirs. Apparently doctors aren’t as important to the Baael as they are to humans. 

Jared lets out a deep sigh, his too long hair falling down into his eyes as he hangs his head. He pulled up a chair next to Jensen’s gurney, just trying to process everything that’s happened in the last few hours. “Do you think Benedict is really still alive?” Jared dares to ask the question bouncing around in his head. If the King is alive, if they can find him, they might have a chance at controlling the damage the Prince has done. 

At least they have a face to put behind the darkness now. Hopefully it will collapse now that Pellegrino is dead. 

“How longs it been?” Christian nods at Jensen’s sleeping form. His color is returning, and the wound is now closed although still red and angry looking. 

Jared looks to the clock on the wall. “Maybe 10 minutes. We shouldn’t wait much longer” Jared glances worriedly at the gaping hole that the door occupied before Pellegrino tore it down. 

Almost as if on cue; Jensen groans, turning his head weakly as the green of his eyes peeks out between slanted lids. “Whahapn” manages to tumble out from between his chapped lips as he tries to take in the scene around him. The room tilts and his stomach clenches, his head throbs like this is the hangover from hell. 

“You passed out. You’re fine” Christian doesn’t want to explain the full story, he betting Jensen will remember better when he wakes up some more. 

“Prince?” Jensen croaks out, his voice rough and dry. He struggles to sit up, but the rush of dizziness pushes him back. 

“Dead” Jared supplies, laying a hand on Jensen’s naked shoulder as Christian turns to search for something for him to wear. Jensen’s shirt lays in tatters on the floor and his jacket is torn and soaked with blood.  

“And Os?” Jensen questions, become more lucid by the moment despite the jackhammer in his head. 

“Osric?” Jared wonders at the shortening of the doctor’s name. “I think he’ll be ok” Jared glance across the room toward the Doctor, laying completely still on the floor where Christian had left him. Jared really has no idea if the man is recovering. 

“Here you go” Christian hands Jensen a scrub shirt. It isn’t much different from what human doctors wears, even though it looks to be a bit large for Jensen. It’ll work. 

Jared and Christian help Jensen into a sitting position and Jensen pushes them off once he gets there. He will not be babied. He’s been through worse and he can manage for himself. He struggles a bit in pulling the shirt over his head, his arms still don’t quite remember how to work properly but he can feel his strength returning with every passing moment. “How are we getting out of here?” He asks once the shirt is in place. He scrubs a hand across his face, noting the sharp drag of his stubble on his chin and making a note that he needs to shave. How long have they been gone for him to need a shave anyway? He wrinkles his nose in annoyance before remembering that he had forgotten to shave that morning. He was too enthralled with Misha. 

Misha. Jensen feels a surge of worry at the thought of what Misha might be going through back on Athena. Jensen has no idea how much damage the human ship has taken, or if Misha even knows that Jensen left. He hopes Misha isn’t still sitting in that closet now that the fighting seems to have stopped. 

“We’re gonna have to steal a jet” Christian mutters, not entirely happy about the prospect of piloting an alien craft. Docking at Athena is going to be a pain in the ass, and that’s only after they manage to convince their fellows of who they are. 

The three humans don’t notice when Osric lifts a hand to press on his temples. They’re too busy formulating a plan. They explain to Jensen that they suspect the Baael King might actually be alive and is possibly being held prisoner on Perdition. They agree they need to try and find him if there is any hope of the two races recovering from this fiasco and stopping the Darkness once and for all. 

The three humans don’t notice until Osric forces himself into a sitting position. The healing salve was formulated for the Baael race, so his recovery is much faster and easier than the humans. 

“Osric!” Jared is the first to notice that the doctor is back in the land of the living. “You’re ok!” The tall human makes three longs strides to the doctor’s side and helps him to his feet. Christian soon joins them and they guide Osric to take a seat next to Jensen on the gurney. 

Osric can’t help his smile. He is so grateful that Christian helped him. He didn’t have to. “Thank you, Lieutenant” Osric voices his thanks and the blue eyed man claps him on the shoulder. 

“No problem man” Christian grins back. Osric has done too much for them to have just let the man die. “You good?” He asks, noticing that the doctor seems to be recovering quicker and with less disorientation than the three humans had. 

“Yeah. I’m quite well” Osric nods. 

“Good. We were just discussing searching for Benedict before making our escape” Jensen smirks, knowing that they’re pushing their luck. The three of them weren’t called the Cowboys for nothing. 

“You believe he’s still alive?” Osric asks with a raised brow. He wants to believe, but he can’t quite bring himself to do it. 

“Why would Pellegrino have lied about that?” Jared shrugs. “The bastard talks to much, is too proud of himself. I don’t think he would have made that up” The Diplomat in Jared comes through, analyzing the behavior of others and searching out the truth. There is a reason Jared is good at what he does. 

Jensen nods in agreement. He isn’t nearly as good at reading people as Jared is, but doesn’t doubt that there is some truth to the Prince’s claims. 

“Where would Pellegrino have hidden his father for everyone to think he was dead?” Christian asks pointedly at Osric. Of the four of them, Osric knows Perdition the best. 

“We opened nearly all of the cells in the hold looking for these two” Christian points at Jared and Jensen. “I don’t think he’s down there” 

“No. The Prince would have kept him close. I’m guessing in his private wing. Misha was kept there for years with very few of us knowing about him” Osric admits. He knows that only himself and the Prince’s inner circle knew anything about the human slave’s existence. 

Jensen aims a glare at the doctor at the mention of Misha, and Jared narrows his eyes at Jensen when he notices. Jared can tell something is going on between Jensen and his new friend with the unearthly blue eyes. 

“Ok. How do we get there?” Christian asks, not wanting to waste any more time as he glances worriedly at the gaping wreckage of the door that is still leaving them exposed. It’s been dumb luck that they haven’t been discovered yet. 

\---- 

“What do you mean you sent them to Perdition!” Chad exclaims angrily. He doesn’t care if he is yelling at his commanding officer. His best friend, and Jensen, were sent on a suicide mission into the heart of the enemy! 

Misha’s blue eyes widen before slamming shut, fighting back the moisture threatening to spill down his cheeks. He looks down at the floor, unable to fight years of ingrained behavior under the stress of knowing the only person who cares about him is probably dead. He doesn’t need Commander Day to say the words. He knows. Chad’s anger confirms it. 

“Captain Murray” Commander Day bites, dangerously serious. “It is not your place to question the decisions made in this command center” She threatens.  

“You sent them to be slaughtered!” Chad yells angrily, face reddening. 

“One more outburst and I’ll have you sent to the brig to cool off!” Commander Day bites back. “We have had no confirmation of the conditions on Perdition, and you would do well to keep your temper in check, Murray” Commander Day’s normally friendly gaze turns to steel and flames. Misha cringes back at her obvious dominance and even Chad shrinks back slightly. 

“Well, a soldier who came through _my_ operating room claimed that they were dead” Chad grates back, keeping his tone just respectful enough for Day to not make good on her threat. 

“Only one of the three ships we sent returned with two of the Corporals who accompanied Kane, Ackles and Padalecki. One of whom you met. The other was uninjured and could make no such confirmation” Commander Day explains. “As of right now, we have no confirmation on the status of their mission” She glares at Chad. Misha’s nervousness does not escape her attention but she doesn’t have time to comfort the man. Murray shouldn’t have brought him to the Command center in the first place. “Return to your duties immediately” She dismisses Chad, knowing that he’ll take the blue eyed civilian with him. 

“Commander” Chad starts. 

“Dismissed!” She bites back, thoroughly done with this conversation. 

“Ugh” Chad grunts in disgust. “Come on Mish” He grabs at Misha’s hand before turning and storming out, dragging his friend after him. 

Misha barely has time to register that Chad had grabbed him before the door is slamming shut behind them. He wrenches his hand out of Chad’s grip, not at all pleased with the show of force from the other man. He stands, breathing heavily and staring wide eyed at the angry doctor. He keeps telling himself that Chad isn’t angry with him, that he knows Chad isn’t going to hurt him. He’s safe. He repeats it in his head like a mantra but the fear surging in him refuses to be controlled.  

Chad turns and takes in those panicked blue eyes, bloodshot from exhaustion and holding back emotion. He realizes his mistake but the anger still coursing through him refuses to acknowledge it. “Fuck” He mutters, trying to force himself to calm down to fend off Misha’s growing anxiety attack. “Misha, come on. It’s ok. I’m sure that stubborn asshole is just fine” Chad tries to force a smile but he knows Misha isn’t buying it. 

Misha stands there, staring at his new friend; still trying to convince himself that Chad’s rage is not targeted at him. He’s not wrong to be angry. On a logical level, Misha knows this. But that knowledge does nothing to stem the surge of fear rising in himself. Trying to do battle with his own mind is worse than any punishment he’s ever suffered through. 

“I’m going back to Jensen’s room” Misha forces out, not daring to say _my_ room. Or even _ours_. He can’t bring himself to look Chad in the eye as he turns and walks away from the Doctor. He needs space. If Jensen is really gone, he needs to figure out what he’s going to do next. He does not want to be stuck in some institution because they think he’s incapable of taking care of himself. He would just be trading one form of slavery for another.  

Misha can hear Chad protest weakly behind him, but the man makes no move to stop his departure. Misha continues, letting his feet guide him while he tries to keep his mind from spiraling out of control. He enters the room and everything is as it should be. Jensen’s bed is still a mess from both of them being crammed onto it the night before. Jensen’s sticky pants still lay on the floor next to it. Misha scoops them up and throws them in the dirty bin.  

He straightens Jensen’s bed before turning to his own. He climbs in, laying on his stomach to stare out the small window. He sees debris from the battle drifting outside but no sign of Perdition or any other craft. He knows from what he had overheard that the Baael ship is close, but he can’t see it from here. He almost wishes he could, maybe then the terrible hole in his chest might not feel so big. Maybe the evidence of his fears wouldn't be clouding his vision and dripping hot and salty down his cheeks and burning his chapped lips. 

But everything looks as calm as it ever does, despite the pain and fear coursing through him, even the swirling dust of the Milky Way is immune.  


	13. Returning

They creep down the corridor in silence, Jensen and Christian leading the way and ensuring their arrival remains unannounced. Most of the Baael they pass pay them no mind, as if seeing three humans and one of their own stalking the halls is an everyday occurrence.  

It is only when they approach the royal chambers do they meet resistance. A staunch guard blocks their path, demanding credentials. The credentials he is given involve a quick snap of his neck from behind. He falls, without protest, to the floor with a solid thud before Jensen drags him around the corner and out of sight. 

Osric pales at the sight of Christian so easily snapping the man's neck and he closes his eyes against the offence. He understands that anyone loyal to the Prince is now an enemy, but his gift as a doctor is to preserve life. Not to take it. Jared urges him forward, they are near their destination. 

The four of them grip their blasters tightly, for all they know the Prince’s supporters could be behind any door they pass. Who knows how deep his corruption ran. 

"Which door?" Christian hisses at Osric. He's the only one in their little party who knows anything about the royal chambers. 

"That one" Osric whispers, pointing to an unassuming looking solid steel door. "I think" If he remembers correctly, the Prince's private chambers lay within and are the most restricted place on Perdition. If the King is on this ship, he will likely be here. 

"You think?" Jensen spits in a hiss. "We need to be sure" He raises his voice just above a whisper and receives a harsh cuff on the back of head from Jared with a loud _shush._  

"I'm as sure as I can be!" Osric whispers back in as loud a hiss as he dares, shoving ahead of the three humans and pushing on the door impatiently. 

The door opens silently and the room beyond is black as pitch. Jared is grateful that he grabbed a flashlight on the way out of the infirmary despite Christian's mocking. He shoots his friend a smug grin as he clicks the light on and steps forward. Christian rolls his eyes but moves aside for Jared to pass. 

The light bounces around the room, revealing nothing, as Osric feels the wall for a switch. The silence within the room is haunting, and the sight that greets them when the light switch is found is even more so. 

The white walls are streaked with blood, nearly as if they were sprayed with it. Drips and drops scatter the surface in a pattern that speaks of pain and suffering. Clubs, whips and other torturous devices line one wall, hanging from hooks while shackles hang along the wall of blood. A row of gleaming knives rest on the wall opposite of the chains and Christian can’t even bring himself to steal one to arm himself with. 

Jensen swallows down the heaves that threaten to assault his stomach and Osric turns away. There is no sign of life here. Only what was. “He was one sick puppy” Jensen mutters with disgust, shaking his head and forcing himself forward. 

Jared blinks away the horror of what he's seeing as he eyes two doors at the other end of the room. These look to be of something heavier than steel, bars adorn the small viewing window at the top of each.  

Christian lays a steadying hand on Jensen's shoulder. He's sure his friend's mind went to the same place as his own. _Misha_. Did the Prince torture their new friend down here? How many times was the kind hearted man hanging from those shackles? How much of this blood belonged to the blue eyed slave? 

Jensen growls low in his throat, wishing again for the chance to kill Pellegrino with his bare hands. He would rips the Baael Prince to shreds if given the chance. 

Jared taps Osric's shoulder, motioning to the two doors. Their party approaches slowly, half terrified of what they're going to find. Christian covers their backs, guarding against attack from either the Prince of his Loyalists.  

The first door reveals nothing. A small closet that might possibly be a cell. The walls are blank, the floor is black obsidian so smooth that could be solid or be hiding depths as great as the oceans on Earth. It is completely empty with no sign of it ever being inhabited. 

The second door holds a lock that Christians makes short work of shooting. The blast is deafening in the silence of the torture room and the four men stand frozen and alert but the sound draws no investigation. 

Jared leads the way into the deserted looking hall, blaster drawn and at the ready. Nothing stirs. He uses his height to their advantage, peering into the small, barred, window at the top of each door. Their footfalls are nearly silent in their stealth, but each cell appears to be empty. Jared comes to the last door, Christian guarding the entrance of the hall, and he sees a huddled mass at the back of the small room. 

Shadows hide whatever is inside, but slight movement gives it away as alive. Jared quickly motions for Osric to step forward. If the Baael king is inside, it would likely be best if one of his own kind entered first.  

Osric squeaks and scrambles to open the door as soon as he glances through the bars. He nearly falls over himself in his haste to enter the room and unbind the man within. His vision is better in the dark than the human's. 

"King Benedict!" He gasps, tugging on the ropes until Jensen approaches with a knife. The Baael King's eyes widen at the sight of the raised weapon but the gag in his mouth prevents protest. Jensen makes short work of the ropes and quickly removes the gag. 

The King doesn't say a word, he simply greedily sucks lungfuls of air as he takes in his rescue party. His nose is swollen, bruises and cuts litter his face and arms. It is clear that he had been beaten, but it is unclear whether this is solely the Prince's doing or if he had co-conspirators. 

"Emissary Ackles, Lieutenant Kane? I did not expect to see you here. It seems I owe you a bit of thanks" The King collects himself and makes to his feet. He accepts the support of Osric's shoulder as he sways slightly, unaccustomed to standing after having been tied for so long. "And you my child. What is your name?" The King kindly addresses Osric. 

"Osric your majesty. Osric Chau" He ducks his head, blushing at the King's words. "I am the lead physician of Perdition" He further explains, trying his hardest not to stutter under the intense honor of serving his King.  

"Let's get you out of here Sir" Jared offers a nod, knowing the sooner they escape the Prince's chambers the better. 

"I don't believe we've met" King Benedict eyes Jared warily, the blood streaking the human's skin along with his unusual height gives the man a wild appearance that isn't entirely trustworthy. 

"Emissary Jared Padalecki. At your service" Jared offers a small bow in deference to the King's royal status. 

"There is much that needs to be explained" King Benedicts looks among the three humans and the Baael doctor, measuring the situation. He's been rescued by an unlikely party, and it seems more than strange that the humans would send their emissaries on such a military mission. Given the ease with which the humans handle their weapons, it seems there is more to them than your average diplomat. "But you are correct Emissary. It is time we should be leaving" The King stands tall, despite being physically shorter than any of his four rescuers. 

The Baael soldiers stop and stare as they notice their King marching past them, head held high despite his battered appearance. Jensen and Jared clear the path, while Christian and Osric follow behind. Whispers follow them but no one dares to confront the party or the King they had thought dead. 

King Benedict guides them to Perdition's command center and he is greeted with many shocked expressions and declarations of fealty. It seems that most of the Baael truly mourned their King and are pleased to find the news of his death was a lie. 

Benedict takes in the scene of the destroyed room with an irritated expression. Jensen and Christian both cringe at the destruction they helped create and Christian stares at the drying pool of his own blood with particular disdain. The King turns angrily to his audience, his four rescuers and several Baael soldiers determined to protect their resurrected King. 

"What happened here" Benedict demands more than asks. He knows his son betrayed him and held him captive, but he is unaware of the depth of that betrayal. 

"We confronted the Prince. He was launching an attack on Athena and we came to stop him" Jensen answers plainly. "We thought you were dead until he bragged otherwise" Jensen lowers his head slightly at this, he knows it must pain the King to know what his son has done. 

"He also admitted to being behind the Darkness" Christian contributes, eyes holding the King's gaze steadily. 

"Is he dead?" The King asks, his hard swallow the only thing betraying his emotions.  

"Yes Sire" Osric admits.  

King Benedict paces the room, trying to come to terms with all that he's hearing and seeing. Anger unlike anything he's ever felt swells within him, his pale blue eyes alight with a deadly fire. 

"I am grateful for your service. I owe the human race a debt for returning my kingdom to me. I hope it is not too much to ask for your further assistance in putting an end to the Darkness as I rebuild the damage my…Pellegrino has done." The King begins but pauses, unable to call the Prince his son any longer. Instead, he has become the enemy of all. Grief and regret wash through him at the thought of Mark's betrayal. Was he such a horrible father to the boy? He glances up, his gaze shifting between the two Emissaries.  

"I believe we can readily offer that support, King Benedict" Jared says with a firm nod. He has no doubt that his commanding officers would agree to join forces with King Benedict once Pellegrino's actions come to light. 

"We must get back to Athena and explain the situation" Jensen adds, anxious to leave Perdition for more than one reason. 

“Yes. I agree. I have much to consider and even more to accomplish in a short amount of time” The King continues. “Osric, consider yourself my new personal physician” He gestures towards the bruising on his face and body. 

“Yes, your Majesty. Please allow me to retrieve my kit so that I can see to your injuries” Osric ducks his heads, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment that he hadn’t thought to ask permission to treat his King’s wounds sooner. 

King Benedict smiles at the young doctor, he wants to keep this young man close. He is the only Baael that the King knows he can trust at this point. At least until he can determine how widespread his son’s corruption had become. “Go ahead. Would it be too much to ask one of you three to accompany him and ensure his safety?” Benedict asks with a sad smile, glancing mainly towards Kane. 

Christian glances towards Jensen, silently confirming the request before nodding firmly and turning to go with Osric.  

The King continues to pace. Too many emotions swirl within him as he contemplates his son’s betrayal and the implications it may have on his kingdom. How widespread was the news of his death? Where do his subject’s loyalties lie? Can he still trust his advisors?  

Jensen eyes the communications panel longingly as he and Jared stand side by side attentively. They too are unsure of the situation. The Baael King is alive, but his kingdom might be descending into civil war. At the very least his rule has been contested and he will need to act quickly to regain full control. 

“I suspected for quite some time that my son was not fit to inherit my Kingdom” King Benedict starts, his voice threatening to crack as grief passes through him in a shocking wave. It punches him hard in the stomach, forcing him to lean forward and allow the broken remains of the table to help support him. “I had not expected this” He shakes his head, voice full of regret. 

Jared and Jensen watch with wide eyes, unsure of what to say or do. “None of us wish to assume the worst of those close to us” Jared hazards, glancing down. 

The King stares at the tall human for a moment, considering him. He had heard of Emissary Padalecki. It is rumored that he is one of highest ranking diplomats on the Earth Alliance’s staff. He comes highly recommended. But, seeing the bruised and bloodied man before him, the King can’t help but wonder how he came by that reputation. The man is a warrior. “Tell me Emissaries, how is it that a pair of _diplomats_ are so skilled in combat?” He asks with a raised brow. It does not make sense that the humans would have sent two peace makers on what is looking more and more like an assassination mission. 

Jensen smiles, his green eyes sparkling. “I only became a diplomat after being wounded in combat, your highness. It was either that or be forced into early retirement” He shrugs, not worried about being honest with the Baael King.  

“I was recruited to the Diplomat division after serving five years on an elite squadron with Ackles and Lieutenant Kane. I believe I am better suited for diplomacy, but I’m still capable in war” Jared answers with a barely restrained grin. He loves his job, but he still enjoys being able to stretch his legs once in a while. 

King Benedict eyes the two humans, taking in their answer and searching for signs of deception. He nods with a hum. It would seems that it was a lucky chance that the humans sent these two to assassinate his son. They not only succeeded, but they had the presence of mind to develop an ally and the honor to rescue a captive king. “I imagine it would be prudent to make contact with Athena” He says, more in a thought to himself but he doesn’t miss the two humans perk up at the idea. 

Osric and Kane return just as Benedict finishes sending a communication to the human ship. They await a response before he turns the device over to Jared. “Make arrangements to depart, you can take one of my smaller ships” The King says with a terse smile before turning to depart with Osric trailing behind. 

King Benedict had ordered Perdition to be searched for supporters of Pellegrino. It is impossible to tell if any small crafts are missing, in the chaos of the battle with Athena, many ships were lost and several are unaccounted for. He gives an order to have any known supporters of the Prince arrested and imprisoned. Unsurprisingly, there were many and the King is not looking forward to interrogating them. He has always preferred to rule with peace, but it seems he needs to develop some new tactics. 

 His first order is to strip Pellegrino of his title and issue a statement regarding his death. The entire Galaxy will know of his crimes. His adoptive son's reputation will be destroyed. 

“Well, doesn’t look like Osric will be tagging along anymore” Christian says with a smile. He’s come to like the guy, knowing he will be safe among his own people is a better outcome than any of them expected. 

“Nope” Jensen confirms with his own smile. 

 Jared waits patiently by the communication device. The series of checks to prove his identity is taking longer than he had hoped, although it isn’t unexpected. They’re all going to have a lot of explaining to do and meetings to plan. 

“Is that really you Padalecki?” Commander Day’s voice chirps over the Com, causing smiles to break out on all three men’s faces. 

“Yes Ma’am. Ackles and Kane here also” Jared reports back. “We’ve got quite the story to tell” 

Jared fills her in on the events that have unfolded, and in the end receives clearance to approach Athena in a Baael vessel.  

King Benedict returns, fully healed thanks to Osric and his healing salve, not long after to escort them to what is left of the docks. He eyes the damage they pass with a mixture of regret and disdain. He feels like a fool. 

“I owe the three of you much gratitude, and I look forward to working with you in the future” Benedict dips his head slightly in deference once they reach the one dock that the three soldiers did not completely destroy before boarding Perdition. They sober slightly at the burned remains of the doors and the reminder that the crew they brought with them probably did not escape intact. “I will have one of my pilots escort you” The King leaves no room for discussion as he summons one of his personal pilots. His personal crew that travels with him are among the few he feels that he can trust. 

“Very well” Jared nods, not entirely pleased with the situation being he sees no room to argue. The Baael technology is different enough from their own that they may have difficulty piloting one of their craft, so it might be for the best no matter how uncomfortable it will be. 

“Excuse me, your Majesty” An older Baael soldier stops in front of the King and bows deeply. “These were found in the lower levels. I believe they are _human_ weapons” The word human rolls off his tongue in a displeased hiss. Jensen eyes the box greedily, hoping that maybe they’ll get their guns back. 

King Benedict looks down into the crate, eyeing its contents. “I believe these might belong to you?” He asks, turning towards the three humans with a raised brow. He reaches in a holds up a gleaming nickel plated Taurus with pearl grip. 

Jensen’s eyes light up. “Yes sir, that one's mine” He smiles as he reaches for the weapon when Benedict holds it out to him. He is glad to have the familiar weight back in his hand instead of the clunky feeling blaster. He quickly hands off the borrowed blaster to a Baael soldier and holsters his own weapon as Christian and Jared retrieve their guns. 

“Why do you choose to use these, primitive, weapons?” The King asks, head slightly cocked in question. He can’t understand why anyone would choose these outdated earth weapons over more modern plasma guns.  

“Because we’re Texans” Christian answers in his thickest drawl with a shit eating grin. Good Texan boys would never give up their guns. 

A distant memory of hearing about a group of three humans tickles the back of his mind, but it has been years since he heard whispers of that elite group. Slowly, pieces fall into place and he searches the eyes of each of the humans in turn. Texas is one of places on Earth that is well known even beyond the planet itself, and it was rumored that a small specialty force made entirely of Texans ran secret missions for the human alliance. They acted as ghosts and there was never evidence left behind when they struck. The King had doubts, at the time, that they existed at all. “Cowboys?” The King says questioningly and the way the three men exchange glances tells him all he needs to know. 

Jared clears his throat roughly. “It’s been a long time since we were called that” He feels exposed, awkward. He knows their reputation as well as anyone and even though it is mostly deserved, he still prefers to keep his involvement under wraps. It’s better if people don’t know what he’s capable of. He scratches the back of his head in discomfort, brushing his hair out of his face and behind his ear in the process.  

The King nods knowingly, sensing their unease with the topic. “Thank you again for your service” he dismisses, turning away to tend to his business. He has much to do and no time to waste. He smiles when he turns, he will not complain about having the infamous Cowboys as allies. 

The three humans watch the King depart and a sense of relief flows over them. All three of them nearly died and such a close brush with death is not easily forgotten. "Ready to go home?" Christian raises an eyebrow as he claps Jensen on the shoulder. He knows his friend is anxious to get back. 

"More than ready" Jared huffs as he shoulders past his two friends. Being in the middle of the action is great and all, but there is a reason he left all this behind to become a diplomat. 

They settle into the seats as the Baael pilot fires the engines and departs. The trip back to Athena takes longer than expected. It turns out nearly all of the Baael's fighting force was damaged in the battle and this cargo vessel was one of the only crafts left that is large enough to carry four. 

They begin the trip in silence, only directing the pilot towards the dock that Commander Day indicated they should use. They have much to discuss amongst themselves but have no interest in doing so in front the Baael soldier. They watch debris float by outside of the window, and Jensen imagines that if he looks closely enough, he can see a pair of blue eyes watching them drift past from one of the many small windows in Athena. 

He smiles to himself at the thought, no matter how ridiculous it is. He just hopes that Misha is unharmed, he still doesn't know how Athena fared in the end. Worry gnaws at him that somehow Misha was hurt, or that any of the soldiers might have turned on him if they realized Pellegrino was using Misha as an excuse to attack. 

“I’m still going to retire” The words tumble from Jensen’s mouth before he has time to filter them. His train of thought led him to the easily realization. As recently as a month ago, the recent developments with the Baael race and the threat of the darkness would have been enough to make him re-sign and beg to be placed back in a combat position. But now? Now his entire world view keeps coming back to a pair of bright blue eyes a mop of messy dark hair. 

Jared turns to study his friend. The green eyed man’s words surprise him. Since they’ve known each other, Jensen has lived for the military. The only reason he was planning on retiring in the first place was because of his injury. He thought for sure that the prospect of going back into battle would be more than enough to tempt his friend. “Oh?” He asks simply with a raised brow. 

Christian smirks and shakes his head. He’s pretty damn sure that he knows what Jensen is thinking. 

“I just. I can’t do this anymore. I got my ass handed to me twice in as many hours. They were right to sideline me” Jensen shakes his head, knowing this is the truth doesn’t make it any easier to admit.  

“You’re just out of practice. We both watched you fight, I don’t think your injury was holding you back at all anymore” Jared says, considering his friend’s tone carefully. There’s something he isn’t saying. Jensen is far too stubborn to admit that he isn’t good enough, especially when it isn’t true. 

“It’s not just that” Christian butts in, smirking at Jensen. 

“Then what else?” Jared asks, glancing between the knowing smirk on Christian’s face the glare Jensen is sending his blue eyed friend. Clearly he is out of the loop. 

“Jen here has a.. _oomph_ ” Christian starts before Jensen shoves his shoulder hard to shut him up. Christian bursts into laughter as Jensen glares menacingly.  

“What?” Jared is confused. What does Christian know that Jensen is keeping from him? 

“Nothing. Forget I said anything” Jensen bites, staring intently at the wall on the other side of his two friends. 

“Oh come on man. It’s obvious” Christian half whines, rolling his eyes at Jensen. Jared is going to figure it out as soon as he sees Jensen and Misha together. 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with that guy does it? The one you two rescued?” Jared only met him once, and he’s blanking on the name right now but he’s pretty sure it starts with an M. He thought Jensen seemed nervous this morning, but Jared was kind of a dick with all the pounding he did on their door. 

“Misha” Jensen mumbles. Not at all pleased at having this conversation. 

“Misha. Are you and Misha?” Jared can’t even bring himself to finish the question, he sees the answer written all over Jensen’s face. Jared shakes his head in irritation. “You know that isn’t ok, right?” 

“Jared” Christian warns as he and Jensen send him matching glares. 

“No. I can’t believe you would take advantage of someone like that!” Jared raises his voice, earning himself a concerned glance from their pilot. 

“JARED” Christian hisses as Jensen’s glare intensifies. “You know Jensen better than that” 

“He’s practically a child Jensen!” Jared continues. 

“You don’t know anything Jared” Jensen glowers. If looks could kill, Jared would have been vaporized by now. “He is anything BUT a child” He hisses, still trying to vaporize his friend. His cheeks tint red with anger and Jared readily returns his glare. 

“Jared. Misha has been through hell, but he is still an adult who can make his own decisions. And he _chose_ Jensen” Christian tries to interject and Jensen turns his widened green eyes towards him. “What? I said it was obvious” Christian shrugs at Jensen’s surprised expression. 

“That doesn’t make it right” Jared hisses back, trying to keep his voice down even though he knows their pilot has to be listening in by now. 

“I can’t explain it Jared. There is just something so _right_ about him. I knew it as soon I saw him but I tried to ignore it. I was doing fine until he kissed me” Jensen scrubs a hand over his face, feeling the scratch of his stubble. “I love him” He admits. 

“You were supposed to take care of him. Help him. Not molest him” Jared bites back, leaning into Jensen’s personal space. 

“You think I don’t know that! Do you really think I would do that to someone?” Jensen searches his friend’s expression. He understands Jared’s objection, but does his friend really think so little of him? 

Jared places a hand to his temple, half shielding his face and takes a deep breath. No. He doesn’t think Jensen would take advantage of someone so vulnerable. This is just so… He didn’t even know that Jensen liked men! 

“Jared. Give Misha some credit” Christian implores. “He isn’t some helpless lost little boy. He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met” Christian admits. He isn’t exactly thrilled about the situation, but his concern is more about how other people will respond. Jared is proving his concern. 

Jared lets out a deep breath, deciding to let this go. For now. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea” He says softly, shaking his head. This could turn out all kinds of bad for both Jensen and Misha. Hell, even for Christian and himself now just for knowing about it. 

“I know” Jensen breathes out heavily. He knows how it looks, but he can’t bring himself to say no to the blue eyed man. Jensen already knows that he would do anything for Misha. “And if he changes his mind, I’ll let him leave. It might kill me, but I’ll do it” Jensen admits, sad green eyes meeting with the swirling mix of color contained in Jared’s gaze. Jared offers him a nod of understanding that isn’t quite approval, more like resignation. 

“And if Jensen hurts Misha, I’ll kill him myself” Christian says with a shrug, as if murdering his best friend would be a simple thing. He can’t help feeling a bit protective of Misha, he doesn’t care if it shows. Although, thanks to Christian, Misha can hold his own in a fight. The man is a natural and Christian is happy to be the one to teach him. 

“You’d better” Jared deadpans, looking deep into Christian’s eyes and trying to hold back a laugh.  

“Hey” Jensen throws and indignant shove at Christian’s shoulder. “I thought we were friends!” He feigns offence. 

“Oh we are, but Misha’s my new favorite” Christian smiles, his blue eyes sparkling. He’s glad that Jared has been talked down from his witch hunt and the mood is lightening. 

Their oversized transport ship pulls into the dock on Athena not a moment too soon. Christian directs the Baael pilot to land properly on the narrow bay. The pilot grumbles under his breath but follows Christian’s direction nonetheless and the three humans quickly disembark. Once they’re safely on deck, the Baael pilot wastes no time in leaving to return to Perdition. Jensen and Jared hold back laughter at his indignant mumblings at being told what to do by a human and Christian simply shakes his head and waves goodbye. 

“Sir” The three men half shout and snap to attention when they turn to find the icy glare of General Jeff Morgan turned on them. He is not amused by their happy return or their smiles. 

“Gentlemen” General Morgan begins. “Please report immediately to the Command center. Commander Day requires your presence” He announces stiffly. He has been like a father figure towards Jared and Jensen, but this is official business. He hides his relief at their seemingly safe return, he’ll pay them a personal visit later. 

“Yes Sir!” The three of them respond in unison. They remain as still as statues, waiting for their dismissal. 

“Dismissed!” General Morgan barks like the drill sergeant he once was, back when Jared and Jensen were new recruits and he had them running miles until they could barely move. 

Jared is the first to move, quickly followed by Jensen and finally Christian. They step quickly through the halls, boots falling heavily on the shiny black floor. Jensen’s eyes search for signs of Misha, but he doesn’t see a hint of the man. He wonders if anyone has told him of Jensen’s return. Surely by now, Misha realizes that the three of them were sent to Perdition. Or at least off Athena. He hopes that Misha knows that he would have gone to him before now if he could. 

“You need to disclose your relationship with Misha before Commander Day finds out from someone else” Jared tells Jensen in hushed tones before they enter the Command Center. 

“And who would tell?” Jensen eyes Jared accusingly. 

“It’s _obvious_ how gone you are on him, man. Jay is right. You should tell her before someone tries to cause trouble” Christian adds his opinion. All it would take is one well intentioned soldier to report Jensen to get him and Misha in trouble. 

Jensen lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head in resignation. He knows his friends are right, but this is not a conversation he’s looking forward to. “Fine” He mutters as Jared knocks for entry. 

The meeting with Commander Day goes quickly before they’re dismissed. She listens with rapt attention as they make their reports, and calls General Morgan for his diplomatic opinion. It is agreed that the three men made the correct call in searching for King Benedict before making their escape and they will receive commendations for their bravery.  

Jensen swallows hard at the mention of accolades. He has doubts he’ll even still hold his rank after disclosing his relationship with Misha. He tries his hardest not to fidget, but he doesn’t miss the raised eyebrows from Morgan. Jeff knows him as well as anyone, the man is practically his surrogate father. He knows something is on Jensen’s mind. 

Once dismissed, Jared and Christian depart quickly. Jared goes in search of Chad, and Christian sure as hell isn’t going with him. Jensen hangs back. 

“Commander. I was hoping I could have a word” Jensen tries to sound confident but the butterflies in his stomach flutter violently. If he screws this up, he could wind up being thrown in the stockade without getting a chance to see Misha at all. 

“Make it quick” She doesn’t look up, simply continues to shuffle her paperwork around.  

Jensen hesitates for a moment too long and she huffs with impatience. “Ackles” She halfheartedly snaps as Jensen shuffles his feet back and forth. Her expression softens slightly when she sees the half terrified and certainly nauseous expression on the man’s face. 

“Commander. I have…I have a disclosure to make” If he had eaten lunch, it would be threatening to make a second appearance. He feels as if his stomach is lodged in his throat as it is and he struggles just to breath. 

“You have my attention” Her curiosity gets the best of her. She really does have a lot to do, but Jensen’s odd behavior is far more interesting. In the entire time Jensen has served under her, he has been cool and collected. Down to business and damned efficient. A model soldier. The nervous man sweating bullets in front her is so far out of character that she’s half tempted to order him to the physician. 

“My relationship with Misha, Ma’am. We’re….moreinvolvedthanweshouldbe” He starts and finishes in a jumbled rush when he loses his nerve. He closes his eyes tightly, waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall. 

Commander Day gapes at the man in front of her for a moment. She thinks she heard him correctly, but really? “Come again soldier? A little slower this time” She doesn’t fight her smirk, his eyes are still locked town tighter than Fort Knox. 

Jensen takes a deep breath. She hasn’t called for the MP yet, that has to be a good sign. “Misha and I. We. I. He’s more than just a friend, Ma’am” He stumbles over his words, wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow him whole. He forces his eyes to open, but he feels the heat creeping up his neck. He wills his hands to stay clasped behind his back and not tug on his collar like an uncomfortable toddler. 

“Are you saying you are in a romantic relationship with the rescued prisoner? Commander Day raises a brow in question.  

“Yes Ma’am” Jensen gulps, wondering why she hasn’t called for his arrest yet. 

“I see. You do you realize that is _not_ what I meant when I assigned him to your care” She scolds, eyeing Jensen critically.  

“Yes Ma’am” Her gaze burns through him until he feels like an ant underneath a magnifying glass. He might burst into flame at any moment. 

“I appreciate your candor. It would seem that you have two choices here” Commander Day’s tone softens slightly, causing Jensen’s worried green eyes to seek out hers. 

“Commander?” Jensen squeaks, his voice unprepared for her not immediately have him arrested. 

“As you know, it is not against regulation to date a civilian. However, Misha’s situation is rather unique and we are unequipped to handle his care. He will be transferred to an Earth bound ship in two days' time” Commander Day explains. 

“But Commander…” Jensen starts, worry lodging itself stubbornly in his throat. 

She silences him with an upheld hand. “Your choice, Ackles, is to either stay here and finish your tour. You have what, two more weeks?” She waits for his nod. “Or, you can volunteer to become his guardian. If the attending physician and Misha both agree that you are equipped to continue his care and introduction to human society then you will be released on leave until your term ends and travel with him. You would become responsible for his well-being until either his family is found, or a board approve doctor approves his independence” She explains, trying to impress the weight Jensen would be accepting if he were to do this. She knows that if someone doesn’t step up for Misha, he will likely be institutionalized. She does not want to see that happen. 

“He’s not a child” Jensen tries to defend, unable to ignore his objection to Misha being treated as such. 

“I am aware of that. Given his circumstance, his option are limited. Without outside support he would not have the means to live a productive life. It would be in his best interest to have a guardian, even more so if that guardian cares for him.” Her gaze softens as she takes in his pained expression. “You have a lot to think about. Now. Go to your man. Talk to him. Find out what he wants.” She smiles gently. 

“So, you’re not arresting me?” Jensen asks skeptically. He can’t believe that she isn’t throwing the book at him. 

“In this circumstance, no. Not today” She waves her hand in a shooing motion. “Give me your decision tomorrow” 

“Thank you Commander” Jensen can’t quite muster a smile. He does have a lot to think about and he can’t quite squash the butterflies still fluttering in his stomach. 

“Oh, and Jensen? If I hear that this thing with Misha isn’t mutual, I will change my mind” Her duty requires her to say it, but she’d have to be blind to not see the way those two watch each other. She knows Jensen well enough that she’s sure Misha is the one who did the pushing.  

“Yes Ma’am” Jensen swallows hard, ducking his head and not doubting his Commander for a moment. He hears the door shut behind him and ignores his grumbling stomach in favor of finding Misha. He heads to his room, hoping the raven haired man is there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed two chapters in the last week! I'm thinking there is going to be one, maybe two, more. If you've enjoyed, please comment or leave kudos.


	14. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I might have been mistaken about this being the last chapter. There will be at least one more, and maybe an epilogue....so more like two. I'm working on the next chapter, and trying to add some smut to it but I really struggle with writing that kind of thing. Anyways, comments and kudos would make my day :) Thank y'all for reading.

Jensen pauses for a moment in front his door. So much has happened in the last 24 hours that his head is spinning. Taking the step from friends to lovers with Misha would have been enough for the day to be memorable, but then add nearly getting killed twice and rescuing a King on top of that and his mind can’t decide what he’s thinking. He hadn’t even considered offering to be Misha’s guardian, the fact the Misha might need one hadn’t crossed his mind.  

His hand hesitates on the control panel that will unlock the door. Is he ready for this? He leans his forehead against the cool metal, noticing some bruising there. He huffs as he thinks what a sight he must make. His arm probably needs stitches, he’s covered in cuts and bruises and a fair bit of blood still. He’s a mess.  

The room is dark when he finally eases open the door. It’s late, normal people would be asleep by now. 

“Jensen?” A low, husky voice drifts from the direction of Misha’s bed. The creak of bedsprings and rustling of blankets give away the other man’s location and Jensen has a hard time responding. He opens his mouth, but words refuse to pass his lips. 

Jensen stands still for a moment, listening to the light footsteps coming towards him and the grey outline of a man coming into focus as he nears the light pouring in from the still open door. 

Jensen lets the door fall closed and feels for the light switch. He doesn’t want to blind the other man, but they need to be able to see. “I’m back” He finally croaks out, his voice nearly breaking under the strain. 

“Jensen” Misha breathes out, throwing himself at Jensen and wrapping his arms tight around the other man’s middle. Misha buries his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck, not minding the sweat and filth the other man is covered in. “You’re hurt” He pouts into Jensen’s shirt like a petulant child. 

“Only a little” Jensen smirks, returning Misha’s embrace. “Are you ok?” He pulls the man back enough to look at him. Misha’s eyes are rimmed in red as if he had been crying, but he holds Jensen’s gaze solidly. 

“I’m fine” Misha forces a smile. He is now at least. He carefully takes Jensen’s hand, noting his split knuckles and stains of blood in the small creases of his skin. He leads Jensen over towards the closet and digs through it without releasing his hold on Jensen’s hand.  

Jensen looks down in surprise when Misha shoves towels and clean sleep clothes into his arms with a smirk. “You stink” Misha crinkles his nose and fights a smirk. 

“I’m glad to see you to!” Jensen laughs, relief finally flooding through him that this day is finally over. He completed his mission, he and his friends are still alive and he got to come home to this adorable man. Misha’s grin explodes at Jensen’s laughter, his nose and eyes crinkling as his lips draw back high enough for his gums to show. Jensen can’t hold back any longer, he reaches a free hand and fists his hand in the other man’s shirt. He pulls him in and smashes their lips together in a bruising kiss.  

Misha moves his lips against Jensen’s, letting the tip of his tongue trace Jensen’s bottom lip before pulling away abruptly with a dopey smile. “Shower” He gives Jensen a push back towards the door and snorts with laughter at the indignant look on Jensen’s face. 

“Fine. Fine. I’m going” Jensen sighs, determined to get it over with quickly before his exhaustion completely overtakes him. 

He can't help if it he hurries through the shower. The grime rolls off him easily enough and he doesn't want to get his injured arm too wet. He pokes and prods the red and raw wound, examining it and groaning when he realizes that, _yes,_ he probably does need stitches. He knows he should go see Chad now, it'll hurt less in the long run, but he just can't bring himself to bother. He'll bandage it when he's back to his room and call it good. 

\--- 

As soon as Jensen steps back out the door, Misha's grin blows out of control. Jensen is back, mostly unharmed and still wants him if that kiss is anything to go by. It took all of his self-control to push Jensen towards the showers instead of towards the bed. He flops onto his bed, waiting for Jensen to return. He feels calmer now, knowing that his friends are back. He makes a mental note to ask about Christian and Jared. He's guessing they're ok, Jensen seemed ok and he probably wouldn't be if something horrible happened to his best friends. But Misha wants to be sure. 

He stretches out, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the bed slightly when he finds that he's too lazy to pull himself up. He turns his head to gaze out the window and decides that maybe the stars aren't so great. They're indifferent and make him feel like everything that’s happening is so insignificant that it can't possibly hold any real meaning. When he had nothing to hope for, that was a comfort; but now their cold desolation is more troubling that anything. He turns away from the cold light of the stars and waits for the warm light of bright green eyes to return. 

He hears Jensen pressing the keys to unlock the door, he's listening for it this time. He reaches his arms high above his head in a stretch, letting his shirt pull up and expose his midriff and he props one foot up on the bed, bending at the knee. He lets his arms back down but doesn't bother putting the shirt back in place, he just smiles and hopes Jensen notices. 

Jensen stumbles back into the room, tired and weary. His eyes zero in the on the sight Misha makes, laid out on the bed with his shirt rucked up and raised knee swinging back and forth. The blue eyed man pulls him bottom lip between his teeth and eyes Jensen hungrily. He smiles around his lightly chewed lip when he takes in Jensen's shower damp dark blonde hair sticking up in all directions and reddish stubble growing in thickly around his jaw. His smile grows when he sees those green eyes sparkling as Jensen stares, lips slightly parted as his gaze rakes over Misha's body. 

Misha holds out a hand, silently urging Jensen to come join him and his friend wastes no time in dropping armful of dirty clothes in the middle of the room and crossing to fall on his knees beside Misha's bed. Misha cups Jensen's cheek, seeing hesitation in the way the corners of the other man's mouth press together and the crinkles forming in his brow. 

"Jensen?" Misha asks softly, eyeing the other man cautiously. 

"How are you so strong?" Jensen barely whispers, letting the calloused pads of his fingers ghost over Misha's cheekbone and over the strong line of his jaw. If the room wasn't draped in silence, Misha would have missed it. Emerald eyes slide closed, Jensen fighting the pain welling in him anew over what he learned on Perdition. 

"I'm not strong" Misha rasps out, shaking his head slightly, confused. He draws back a little, dislodging Jensen's hand, and studies the man before him.  

"You are. So strong" Jensen stresses, not reaching for Misha as the man props himself up to get a good look at Jensen. 

Misha cocks his head further, tipping back slightly and trying to understand. "Where is this coming from?" He shakes his head, not sure what Jensen is getting at. 

"I saw. The scars on your back, and that _room_. Misha, I can't..." Jensen trails off, trying to hold back the sob that threatens to escape. The blood drains from Misha's face, telling Jensen that his friend knows exactly what he's talking about. 

"My punishment room" Misha mutters coldly, pulling back from Jensen abruptly. He had hoped to never have to think about that place again. 

"Yours?" Jensen gulps, failing to hold back the sob any longer. He never thought that _all_ of that blood was Misha's. His stomach lurches and his throat swells and burns so that he can barely breathe. 

Misha nods, swallowing thickly. "Did he..." Misha searches Jensen's expression, hoping that Jensen didn't fall victim to that room. The Prince is capable of so much horror, Misha can't even imagine those things happening to anyone but himself. 

"No" Jensen says quickly, recognizing the concerned terror on Misha's face. "He can't hurt anyone ever again" He shakes his head, reaching out for Misha; needing the contact. Now. 

"He's dead, Misha" Jensen draws the man into a tight hug, clutching at him blindly in his need to feel his solid warmth under his hands. 

"Good" Misha says shortly. He's glad, really, but the news twists like one of the Prince's many knives in his gut. The only reason Jensen can't see those scars is because of the healing salve that was used on him time and time again. He doubts even Osric knows the extent of what the Prince had been able to do to him because of that salve. He draws back from Jensen and rubs at the phantom pain in his wrist, a remnant of that room. Thinking about that room and the shame that wells in him now that Jensen has seen it, has imagined what had been done, he can't bring himself to look at Jensen. He stares at the floor beyond his hands on his lap before closing his eyes tightly against his memories. 

"Are Christian and Jared ok?" Misha forces himself to ask, trying to change the topic. He really doesn't want to talk about his time as the Prince's slave. Maybe someday, but for now he wants to forget, he wants a chance to live a life without that kind of fear or pain. 

Jensen senses the shift in Misha's mood and his heart sinks. It's his fault. He shouldn't have brought it up. "Yeah, they're fine. Osric saved all three of us" Jensen smirks, wondering how well the mention of the Baael doctor will go over. 

Misha glances up to meet Jensen's eyes at that news. Osric had helped them escape, but he's surprised that the doctor would have helped them kill Pellegrino. "Really?" He has to know. 

"Yeah" Jensen proceeds to tell him the story, all of it. From their storming of Perdition, to Jensen and Jared being taken Prisoner; all the way down to rescuing the King. Misha listens with rapt attention and growing adoration for the brave man in front of him. 

"So, it sounds like Osric is the real hero" Misha says with a raised brow. 

Jensen gives Misha a hurt look. "I did stuff too" He pouts, not missing the smirk Misha is trying to hide. 

"I guess" Misha shrugs dismissively before turning his head away. He knows he's losing his battle to fight his grin. He just can't manage to keep a straight face!  

Jensen flashes a short lived grin as he playfully punches Misha's shoulder. He raises from his knees to sit precariously on the edge of Misha's bed. "Seriously though, if you ever wanna talk about it..."  

"I know" Misha feigns a smile. Talking about _it_ , is not something he wants to do. Maybe someday. Maybe not ever. 

 "Stay with me?" Misha begs, reaching for Jensen's hand as the man makes a move to push off the bed and stand. He turns his soft blue eyes towards Jensen's green ones, silently pleading not to be left alone. Even if two grown men cramming onto the twin sized military cot is a bit ridiculous. 

Jensen nods and lets Misha pull him back to lay together. Misha curls tightly into Jensen's side, draping an arm across his chest and burrowing his chin into the crook of Jensen's neck. His soft dark hair tickles in Jensen's ear and Jensen leans into it, savoring the closeness as a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. 

\---- 

Morning comes quickly, far too quickly, but there are no obnoxious intrusions from Jared this time. Jensen wakes slowly, reveling in the warm weight of the other man draped across him. He turns his head to place a chaste kiss to the only part of Misha he can reach, the messy dark locks on the top of his head.  

Misha had been awake for a while now, waiting for Jensen to stir. He hadn't wanted to disturb the sleeping man, wanting to savor every moment he can before they inevitably have to separate and begin the day. Misha smiles broadly when he feels Jensen shift and he turns his head to gaze up into Jensen's face when he feels the kiss in his hair. Jensen's green eyes slowly flutter open and white teeth peek out from Jensen's sleepy smile. 

Misha pushes himself up and back slightly, perching over Jensen and smiling down at the man. He closes the distance with greedy kisses that elicit the most delightful moans from the other man.  

Jensen's hands roam up Misha's back, dipping underneath the edge of his shirt and running smoothly over exposed skin. Misha is warm and solid underneath his fingertips, the bumps of his spine already less pronounced than a week ago and the crisscross pattern of scars burning hot in Jensen's mind even as he tries to force the thoughts down. What's done is done. He's never going to let anyone hurt this man again. Never. 

Misha hesitates as he feels Jensen's fingers tracing the whip and cane marks on his body. Knowing that Jensen has now seen the source of them make him shudder. He knows it can't be pretty and his heart hammers at the memories of what put them there. He has to pull back before the panic overtakes him. Why would Jensen want anything to do with him? He has to realize how weak Misha is by now. He saw the room! He saw the things the Prince used on him! Misha is damaged. Jensen shouldn't want him. He closes his eyes tightly, forcing his rapid breathing to slow and repeating to himself that those are all lies. 

Jensen clearly does want him. Jensen does _not_ think Misha is weak. What Misha feels and what the analytical part of his brain tells him that he knows, war with each other, driving the breath from Misha's lungs and making his heart race.  

"Misha?" Jensen asks worriedly, quickly withdrawing his hands as he takes in Misha's struggle. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" Jensen pushes himself back, giving Misha space as he berates himself for pushing too hard. 

"It's ok. I'm ok" Misha breathes, eyes still closed but less tensely. Another moment passes before he slides his eyes open to take in Jensen's nearly terrified expression. Misha forces a smile. "I'm sorry, Jensen. I can do better" He apologizes and his heart sinks at Jensen's horrified expression. 

"You have nothing to apologize for!" Jensen responds quickly and little more harshly than intended. He reaches a hand out for Misha before letting it hang mid-air when the other man draws back as if expecting to be struck. "Misha" Jensen half whines, frustrated and saddened by his inability to say the right thing. "It's ok" He whispers. "We don't have to...." He reaches again, his softer tone comforting Misha enough for the man to lean back towards Jensen. "I want you to be comfortable, don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. We don't...just tell me what you want..." Jensen starts to regress into worried ramblings and Misha has to silence him with a slim finger over his lips. 

Jensen's worried green eyes search Misha's expression, unsure of what he'll find there. Misha smiles sadly, ashamed at his own reaction to Jensen's affection but grateful that Jensen isn't angry. "I'm sorry" He whispers again, shaking his head at Jensen's instant objection. "I just need to go slow. I get stuck in my head, being touched. I thought I was doing better" He shakes his head. "Please don't be mad" Misha begs, trying not to give in to the tears threatening to spill. 

Jensen reaches a hand forward to cup Misha's cheek and Misha nuzzles into the touch. "We'll go as slow as you need. I could never be mad at you for that" Jensen shakes his head at the idea. He holds eye contact with Misha, trying to silently convince the other man that everything is ok. "I'll never force you" He whispers, praying that Misha believes him. 

Misha nods and tries to smile but he just doesn't quite make it. He lets Jensen draw him back into a tight hug and Misha snakes his arms around the man's shoulders, holding on tightly. How did he ever deserve someone like Jensen? 

"I'm going to make it my life goal to make you see how amazing you are" Jensen whispers in his ear and Misha sobs a grin, losing his battle with tears. "I don't care how long it takes" Jensen squeezes tighter, trying to convey everything without words. 

Misha sniffles, letting himself collapse into Jensen's hold as he mutters an _ok._ He clenches his eyes tightly closed, feeling the tension unfurl in his gut underneath Jensen's solid wave of care. Maybe everything will be ok. Maybe. 

They spend the next while in silence, until a gentle knock sounds on the their door and they both stare towards the intruding sounds with matching expressions of confusion. 

The knock sounds again, calm and measured. It's time they should be getting up and about anyway, Jensen's t-shirt is stuck to the wound on his arm since he forgot to bandage it last night and  the throbbing coming from the crusty wound tells him that he really needs to go see Chad. He scoots out of bed, leaving Misha perched on the edge of the mattress, and pads silently to the door. 

Jensen cracks the door open and peers through. Jared. At least he's calmer than last time, Jensen smirks to  himself as he opens the door to his friend.  

"Hi" Jared half smiles, glancing deep in the room and finding Misha. He offers Misha a firm nod. "I thought maybe we could grab lunch?" Jared suggests in his friendliest tone. 

"Lunch?" Jensen asks with a raised brow. 

"It's almost noon man" Jared half laughs. His best friend's wild hair and confused expression is all the evidence he needs to know he has not been awake for very long. "I thought you two might be hungry. Did you ever get any chow last night?" He eyes Jensen questioningly. No one had seen or heard from him after he met with Commander Day. Jared was half afraid that he would find out Jensen had been arrested. 

Misha stands and stretches. "Gottagetdressed" He mumbles through a yawn before rubbing his eyes. Enough time had passed since his mini melt down that he's feeling more or less ok. His stomach flutters with nerves, but that feeling is a near constant companion. 

Jared chuckles at two men's disheveled, but fully dressed, appearance. He doesn't miss the fact that only one bed appears slept in, but everything seems ok between the two men. He promised himself that he would give Misha and Jensen and chance. "Christian's meeting us in a bit" Jared explains, breaking out into another smile when he sees Misha perk up at the news. 

Jensen strips off his shirt, wincing when the fabric of the sleeve comes unglued from his arm. The wound bleeds anew and both Jared and Misha's eyes widen comically at the sight. "Jensen!" Misha rushes to his side, poking and prodding the wounded arm. 

"Why didn't you go see Chad last night!" Jared chastises, pushing his way in to examine the arm himself. "It's infected Jensen!" Jared exclaims with disgust at the white pus oozing from the freshly reopened wound. 

"God dammit" Jensen bites, craning his neck to see while simultaneously brushing the other two men away. 

"Lunch can wait" Misha bites, grabbing a leftover bandage from his own bruised nose and quickly pressing it to Jensen's arm. "Hold this" He says shortly, waiting for Jensen to take over holding the gauze. "You should have told me you needed to see Chad!" He nearly bites, irritated that Jensen would ignore his own health like that and more irritated with himself for not noticing how bad it was the night before. 

"I was tired!" Jensen justifies in a whine, giving Misha his best puppy dog eyes. 

"Let's go Jen. Before it gets any worse" Jared gripes, knowing now that he's going to have to physically drag his friend to Chad. 

Jensen bitterly allows himself to be escorted to the infirmary, flanked by both Misha and Jared. He grumbles the entire walk there, complaining that they wouldn't even let him put a shirt on. He feels naked, walking with just his sleep pants on. "Shoes! You could have at least let me put shoes on! This floor is freezing! My nipples are cold!" He continues in an endless torrent. 

"Shut up!" Jared and Misha both gripe in unison. They look at each other with amused grins when Jensen huffs about none of this of fair and that he's a grown ass man. 

Jared gives Jensen a push through the door to the infirmary before shoving by Jensen as Misha plants the man in a chair. Jared goes in search of Chad, certain the doctor is likely pulling his hair out behind his desk doing paperwork backed up from the fighting the day before. 

Misha fusses over Jensen as the green eyed man continues to pout. He's really not that upset, but seeing Misha being all doting and protective is causing his stomach to flutter in a way he never thought possible. So sue him if he plays it up a bit. 

Chad busts out of his office moments later, both in gratefulness for the distraction and annoyance at Jensen's carelessness. "Jenny! So glad to see you!" Chad says with so much false cheer that Jensen groans in anticipation of what’s to come. It can't possibly be good. 

Misha eyes the doctor critically. Something is different about him today, he seems to be faking his usual annoying demeanor and Misha isn't quite sure how to take it. 

"Hiya sweet cheeks" Chad grins at Misha stiffly and cocks his head sharply. 

"Hi..." Misha trails off, feeling intensely uncomfortable by Chad's behavior. He isn't sure what to say. 

"Damn it Jenny! Why didn't you bring your pretty ass down here last night!" Chad admonishes when he peeks underneath the strip of gauze Jensen had still been holding to his arm. It was tinged pink with a mixture of blood and plasma oozing from the wound and Chad shakes his head in disgust. "Well come on. Lover boy here isn't going to want to see this" Chad grabs Jensen's elbow and hauls the man to his feet despite his protests. Chad couldn't have been bothered to grab Jensen by his _uninjured_ arm. 

Jensen glances back to Misha and shrugs at the man’s worried expression. Chad isn’t wrong, Misha is probably not going to want to see what is in store for Jensen’s arm. He lets Chad drag him into the back without protest. He knows he should have come last night. 

Misha sags back in the chair. It seems like he spends more time in this hospital than anywhere else and now he’s got nothing to do but wait for Jensen. He doesn’t look over when Jared slowly settles into the chair next to him. He’s aware of every single movement the giant makes, but he refuses to show his unease. He wants to be as strong as Jensen thinks he is. 

Jared sits gingerly, nervous about being alone with Misha but unwilling to leave at the same time. A silent moment drags by while Misha steadfastly ignores him. Jared glances sideways toward the former slave, trying to study the man through his hair that refuses to stay tucked behind his ear. It isn’t working. 

Jared clears his throat roughly, preparing himself to break the silence. He opens his mouth to speak but closes it again when words fail to appear. 

“You don’t have to stay and wait” Misha beats him to the words. Misha’s tone is deceptively cool and nonchalant. The blue eyed man prides himself on how steady the words came out despite his racing heart and his struggle to not shift uncomfortably in his chair so close to the looming giant of a man. 

“I want to” Jared says a little too quickly, causing Misha’s gaze to flit in his direction. “I mean. I thought maybe. Maybe we could talk?” Jared stumbles out, his resolve crumbling underneath Misha’s penetrating blue gaze. Jared feels like his very soul is being examined and he is quite sure he doesn’t like the feeling. 

“Oh?” Misha asks, taken aback by Jared’s nervous request. Misha’s stomach flutters in worry, what if Jared figures out that Misha and Jensen are a little more than just friends? What if Jared doesn’t like him? What if Jared wants details about Misha’s life? Why does Jared want to talk? 

“Yeah. Unofficially. We have to have an official interview later, but maybe we can try to get to know each other? Jensen told me that the two of you…well…Jensen’s my best friend, and if you and Jensen…well, uh, maybe we should try to be friends to?” Jared stumbles over nearly every word, squirming under that intense blue gaze and the confused expression steadily growing on Misha’s face. 

Misha stares at Jared for a moment. How can such a skilled warrior and diplomat be so flustered by Misha? Maybe Jared isn’t so scary…maybe. But, Jensen _told_ him?! “Jensen told you about us?” Misha gasps at the revelation of what Jared is trying to say. His blue eyes grow wide and his already racing heart forces itself into a greater frenzy. 

“Yeah. _Shit_ ” Jared pales at the terrified look on Misha’s face. Maybe this was a mistake. “It’s ok. I mean, it’s weird…maybe not weird. Crap. I’m sorry” Jared runs a hand through his hair, berating himself for getting so flustered by this man. Jared is starting to see why Jensen and Christian both are so enamored with him. He is not at all what Jared had been expecting. 

“And you want to try to be friends?” Misha asks suspiciously, going back to one of Jared’s earlier mumblings. He narrows his eyes at the other man, trying to figure out what is going on right now. 

Jared nods. “If you’d like” Jared has rarely felt so scrutinized in his entire life. Misha really ought to train to be a negotiator. He suspects the man would always get what he wants. 

“Okay” Misha draws out, still unconvinced but he relaxes slightly. At least it doesn’t seem like Jared wants to keep him and Jensen apart. 

Jared sits for a moment, trying to come up with something to talk about that doesn’t involve Misha’s history. He suspects that starting off their conversation with ‘tell me about being a slave’ wouldn’t go over too well. 

“So you’ve known Jensen a long time?” Misha beats Jared again and the man looks genuinely curious. 

“Yeah. We met in boot camp. 15 years ago. We’re both from Texas so we kinda stuck together” Jared breathes out a sigh of relief. He’s more than happy to talk about that. 

“And Christian?” Misha asks, curious to know where the third man fits into their friendship. 

“We met him just after boot camp. Christians’ from Texas too but he and I hated each other at first” Jared chuckles at the memory. 

“Really?” Misha asks, forgetting that he’s supposed to be wary of Jared. He turns in his chair to face the other man, excited at the prospect of a story. 

“Yeah. He and Jensen clicked right off. I…well, I’ve always had a hard time sharing Jensen” Jared smirks at his bit of truth. It took him a long time to realize his dependence on the other man. Jensen has always been like a brother and best friend rolled into one, his protector and only source of support for the longest time. Outside of Jeff of course. 

“I don’t blame you there” Misha mutters with a shy smile. He would be perfectly happy to receive all of Jensen’s attention himself. 

“Eventually Christian and I became friends. The three of us worked so well together that the military assigned us to a special covert operations unit. Those were good times” Jared says with a sigh of contentment, leaning back in his chair and looking over to Misha. 

“But then you became a diplomat?” Misha asks, piecing what little he knows of Jared together. 

“Yeah. General Morgan recruited me. He was Jensen and mine’s drill sergeant in boot camp. Became kind of a father figure for us” Jared explains. “You’ll meet him later I’m sure” Jared neglects to remind Misha about the official interview they’ll have to have later. 

“Jensen said you’re really good at being a diplomat” Misha compliments second hand. Jared seems better with his words now that they’ve both calmed down a bit.  

“So they say” Jared smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Chad told me that you helped him out yesterday?” Jared finally thinks of something safe ask Misha. He wants to know more about the man, but there is only so much he can ask without being an ass. 

Misha sighs deeply and looks to the floor. “Yeah, he took pity on me. Let me help. I’m sure I was more in the way than anything” Misha mumbles. He’s glad Chad gave him a job to do, but he can’t imagine he was actually useful. A flush creeps up Misha’s neck, coloring his cheeks slightly as he pointedly avoids looking at Jared. 

“Not according to Chad” Jared disagrees, turning to stare and wordlessly will Misha to look back at him. He doesn’t like this lack of confidence he’s seeing. “He said you helped a lot, that more people might have died without you” Jared impresses, trying to convince the other man of the truth. He wants to reach for the other man, place a hand on his shoulder, but he resists. Chad had told him Misha has some difficulties with touch and not to push the man. Holding back is difficult for Jared, he’s a very touchy feely person. 

Misha huffs, clearly not accepting the praise.  

“Misha. Look at me. Please.” Jared pleads. Chad had warned him about Misha’s tendency to try and convince himself that he was useless. Jared waits as Misha takes a deep breath. Finally those bright blue eyes make an appearance as Misha turns back towards Jared. “I’m sure you know Chad well enough by now to know he doesn’t bullshit. If Chad say’s you were great, there is no reason to doubt him.” Jared tries to stress but Misha shakes his head as his eyes slide closed. “You’ve got to give yourself some credit, man” Jared wants to badly to reach out and give Misha a nudge, but he doesn’t dare. Misha looks like he’s going to get up and run at any second 

“I don’t deserve it” Misha mutters bitterly, turning back to the floor. Maybe talking to Jared wasn’t such a great idea. 

“Yes. You do. Chad thinks so. Jensen obviously thinks so. Why would you think they’re wrong?” Jared decides to try a slightly different angle. 

Misha gapes wordlessly. Does he think Jensen is wrong? Or Chad? Or Christian? 

“I know a lifetime of being hurt won’t go away in just a few weeks” Jared meets Misha’s eyes, those blues not really focused on him. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. No, let me finish” Misha makes to interrupt but Jared holds a silencing hand up. “I hope that you feel like you can trust us. Jensen at least. None of us think you’re worthless. None of what happened to you is your fault. Jensen thinks you’re pretty amazing, and I think you’re pretty damn brave and stronger than any one of us. You would have to be to have survived” Jared finishes, his little speech going deeper than he had planned. 

Misha looks down without saying a word. He wants so badly for Jared to be right, but he just can’t accept that he is. He swallows hard around the lump in his throat, fighting back traitorous tears. He’s saved by the sound of the exam room door opening. Both men’s eyes snap up to watch Jensen exit. The green eyed man is ghostly pale and his pained expression breaks Misha’s heart. 

“Jensen!” Misha scrambles to his feet and rushes to support his friend. Chad steps out behind Jensen and Misha fixes him with an angry glare. 

“S’ok Mish. My own fault” Jensen shakes his head but accepts Misha’s offered shoulder. 

“What did you do!” Misha hisses at Chad, blue eyes furious. 

“I had to cut out the infection. He’ll be ok, just needs to rest. Cutting out extra tissue is not a fun thing to sit through” Chad says apologetically, holding up his hands in surrender.  

“I’m ok” Jensen says through clenched teeth. His arm really hurts and all he wants to do is lay down. 

“You should take him back to your room and bring him a plate from the mess. He needs to eat” Chad recommends as Jared moves to help Misha. 

“Tired” Jensen mutters, just wanting to sit down. He refuses to admit to the somersaults his stomach is performing. 

“Jensen. Remember. Talk to him, then come back and talk to me. Ok?” Chad steps in front of the trio, standing tall to look Jensen in the eye. The green of his eyes are barely visible through his pain dilated pupils. The local anesthetic is wearing off and the pills haven’t kicked in yet. 

Jensen nods with a grunt as he takes a step forward. Misha and Jared hurry him back to the room and get him settled in bed. “Go on and eat guys. Bring me back a sandwich or something” Jensen encourages, feeling much less light headed now that he’s sitting down. The pills are starting to take effect and he struggles to hold back laughter at Misha’s puzzled expression. “Go” He half snorts when he takes in Jared’s eye roll. 

“You sure?” Misha asks, concern filling his tone. 

“I’m fine!” Jensen drawls out, flying high now on the pain killers. He gives Misha a dopey smile before shooing the men away. 

Jared chuckles at Jensen’s loopy reaction to Misha’s concern. “Come on. He’ll be fine” The corner of Jared’s mouth twitches up as he fights a smile.  

“You sure?” Misha glance between the two men, his deep blue eyes full of concern. 

“Yeah. I’m good” Jensen settle back on the bed, feeling loose and relaxed. He can’t help but find Misha’s concern amusing. He really does love that guy. Love? Really? Does he? He grins.  

“Okay” Misha is hesitant to leave Jensen’s side, but he is kind of starving and someone will need to bring food back for Jensen.


	15. Getting all the ducks in a row...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up, life threw me a curve ball I got behind on my daily writing goals. This chapter was also difficult for me to write, I hope it's halfway decent....writing smut is not something I've done much at all. 
> 
> So be warned....explicit content ahead.

“Misha, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Misha had survived the day with Jared as Jensen recovered from his impromptu surgery. Now that Jensen is feeling more like himself, he feels like it might be a good time to talk to Misha about becoming his guardian. Jensen still hates the sound of it, but Chad did a good enough job explaining while he was cutting Jensen’s arm open. 

“Yeah?” Misha turns his chin up from where he’s laying curled against Jensen’s chest. He pulls back to sit up when he notices the serious expression on Jensen’s face and he is instantly filled with panic. 

“It’s not serious. Well, ok. It is. But it’s not bad” Jensen tries to comfort when he sees the tell tale creases on the other man’s forehead, he knows Misha is worried already. 

“Ok?” Misha is hesitant to continue this. 

“Ok. So, you know the transport is coming tomorrow to take you to Earth. As it is, I can’t come with you” Jensen pauses for a moment, but that pause gets rushed when he see’s Misha’s expression crumple. “Unless you agree to have me become your guardian” Jensen says in a rush. 

“What?” Misha is confused. Why can’t Jensen come with him? He thought that was the plan? 

“The Government wants you to have a guardian for a while, at least until you’re sure you’ll be ok” Jensen tries to explain without mention the fact that Misha would probably be locked up if he doesn’t have someone to look after him. 

“To keep me out of a hospital” Misha grumbles. He had something resembling this talk with Chad. He does not want to be treated like a prisoner. He’s had enough of that to last him three lifetimes. 

Jensen swallows hard and nods. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to offer to do that for you. You can come home with me, to Texas. Go to school, find a job…whatever you want to do. They’ll let me use the last of my vacation time, so I can go with you tomorrow”  

“And if I don’t want that?” Misha asks and Jensen’s heart sinks.  

“Then I’ll do whatever you want. I have two more weeks to serve. I can come find you then. Or leave you alone if that’s what you want” Jensen looks away, his heart throbbing with the thought of rejection. Maybe he was just a distraction for Misha. Maybe the other man doesn’t really want him. 

“I don’t want to make you give up everything for me” Misha mutters. He doesn’t want to wait two weeks for Jensen to join him. He doesn’t want to be thrown into an institution.  

“I wouldn’t be giving up anything to come with you” Jensen reaches for Misha and he’s met with blue eyes, shiny with unshed tears. “I’d be giving up more to stay here without you” 

Misha nods, chest fluttering with a mixture of nerves and joy. “Then yes” Misha throws himself at Jensen, forgetting about his sore arm until Jensen hisses with pain at the sudden motion 

Jensen laughs slightly despite the pain, relief coursing through him that Misha really does want him. “We just gotta talk to Chad and Commander Day” Jensen wraps his arms around the darker haired man and squeezes as tightly as he can with his sore arm. 

\--- 

Commander Day wants to talk with Misha without Jensen. Jensen nods, knowing the Commander won’t be too rough on Misha but the blue eyed man looks back over his shoulder with worry as the door slides closed; trapping him in a room with a woman he barely knows. 

“So. Misha” She smiles, clasping her hands together and eyeing the man before her excitedly. 

“Commander” Misha says nervously, his voice hitting a cough inducing pitch. He clears his throat, trying to steady his nerves and pretend that he’s a not a nervous wreck. He pulls in a deep breath, letting his blue eyes nearly slide closed in an attempt to settle himself. 

“Please, call me Felicia. You’re not under my command” She smiles wider, trying to put the man at ease. She wilts slightly when she see’s him tense at her words. She sighs, settling back in her chair. “Please, take a seat” She gestures towards the empty chair in front of her desk. 

Misha hesitantly takes a seat, opting for the one closest to the door. He forces his hands to be still, resting on his thighs, as he studies the top of _Felicia’s_ desk. He can feel the vibrant woman studying him but he can’t find his voice to say anything. 

“So. You and Jensen” Felicia starts, smiling gently when bright blue eyes fly up to meet her gaze. “Don’t worry! You guys aren’t in trouble” She waves a hand but it does nothing to deter Misha’s startled gaze. “The transport will be here early in the morning to take you to Earth. There will be a few days for debriefing and some more testing for you, before you can be released. A social worker will go over everything with you better than I can” She keeps smiling despite the growing concern on Misha’s face. “I take it Jensen has talked you about becoming your guardian?” She nods her head, encouraging Misha to speak. 

Misha stares for a moment, taking in her words and trying to slow his racing heart. He keeps repeating the mantra of _everything is ok, everything is ok_ in his head. “He did” Misha forces out past his constricted throat as he plasters on a watery smile. “I, uh…I accept his offer” Misha ducks his head, unsure of what he is supposed to say. 

“I’m glad to hear it” Felicia says softly, smiling at the obvious nervousness of the man in front of her. She thinks he’s adorable in a way.  

Misha glances back up quickly at her friendly and pleased tone. He relaxes when he sees her gentle smile and thinks that maybe she isn’t so scary. 

“You and Jensen seem to have some sort of profound bond. I never expected Jensen, of all people, to be such a gooey mess” She half snorts, glad to see Misha relaxing. He cocks his head slightly, narrowing his eyes in confusion. 

“What wrong with Jensen?” He asks, forgetting that he’s supposed to be wary of this woman. 

“Oh, nothings wrong with him. He’s just a tough old bird and you’ve got him wrapped around your finger so easily. It’s adorable” She nearly croons, her tone has taken on a teasing quality as she leans back in her chair. “I think you’re good for him” She smiles. “Anyways, I’ll sign off on my part of the guardianship request. I don’t see anything suspicious going on here” She smiles gently, leaning forward again. 

“Thank you” Misha mutters, still not sure how to take her. 

“One more thing though. You need a last name” She reaches for a sheet of paper that had been tucked into a fat folder at the edge of her desk. 

“A last name?” Misha asks, confused. 

“Well, yeah” She shrugs. “Everyone has one, you can’t just go by Misha” She encourages, searching for a pen. 

“But I don’t have one” Misha mutters, cheeks flushing as he looks back down to the very interesting paperclip on the desk. 

“You get to pick one!” Felicia grins. “Most of us get stuck with one, no matter how awful it is. You’re lucky. You get to choose” She grins, nearly bouncing in her seat. 

“But, what if I choose wrong? What if Chad finds I have family? Shouldn’t I go with their name?” Misha asks, confused and hesitant. 

“Chad is going to test?” She asks, taken aback by the news. The doctor had failed to mention that Misha agreed to DNA testing. 

Misha nods, surprised that she didn’t know. It seems like she knows everything that goes on around here. 

“I’m glad to hear it! But that can take weeks, in the meantime you need something to go by. You can change it later if you want” She shrugs, understanding his hesitance.  

“How do I choose?” Misha wonders aloud. Choosing a name seems like such a huge task. One he can’t possibly complete. What if he chooses something stupid? 

“Well, are there any names that are important to you? A last name gives identity, something that belongs to you.” She tries to give him a nudge. There has to be something. 

Misha thinks for a moment, searching through his better memories but he still struggles. He glances back up, shaking his head slightly. “Is there anyone from your past that helped you? That you want to remember?” Felicia continues, trying to help him brainstorm. 

Misha continues to search his memories, trying to think of something worth remembering from his past. He remembers the other slaves at the brothel, landing on the memory of the old slave who made sure he was washed and fed every day. The alien slave who taught him how to survive, how to behave so the masters wouldn’t beat him. The one who showed his young self actual affection. The one who the masters shot in front of him when she stopped being profitable. Misha closes his eyes tight against the memory. “Collins” He mutters, opening his wet blue eyes to stare at Felicia. 

She smiles, again. Misha thinks that maybe she smiles too much. His heart aches, reliving the memories of his early protector. He thinks that he might be glad to carry her name and remember her kindness.  

“Welcome to freedom, Misha Collins” Felicia grins, pleased with his choice, reaching out to shake his hand. Misha takes the offered hand with a small smile. He feels a flutter of excitement course through him. How is choosing a last name making him so excited? It all feels so real now. His freedom. The fact that he’s about to travel to earth. He hasn’t been on a planet since Prince Pellegrino bought him from the brothel, and that was years ago.  

“Now we just need to get Jensen back in here so the two of you can sign the release” Her smile falters. “Um, do you know how to read and write?” She asks, showing the first sign of hesitation.  

“I do” Misha nods and Felicia’s smile reignites. He holds his head with pride. Yes. He can read and write. Collins taught him. 

“Excellent!” Her smile threatens to escape the confines of her face, brightening the entire room and for the first time Misha gives her a real smile in return. He can’t help it, her excitement is catching. “Just wait here a sec” She rises from her desk and crosses the room to the door. It slides open with a hiss, revealing Jensen anxiously waiting on the other side. “Come in Ackles” She smirks, unsurprised that he was waiting right there. She stands aside as Jensen enters, returning to her desk as Jensen settles into the chair next to Misha. 

“Alright. There are some papers here you both need to sign to get this ball rolling” Felicia winks at Misha and smirks at Jensen. “This one is for Misha to grant his acceptance for Jensen to take responsibility for your well being” She hands the form to Misha. “Read it before you sign” She tuts as Misha picks up a pen without looking at the document.  

Misha shoots her a small glare before letting out a deep breath and scanning the document. There are some words he stumbles over, and phrases he doesn’t understand.  

Jensen reads the brief shadows of confusion that color Misha’s expression and he leans towards the man to try and help. “Questions?” Jensen asks softly, giving Misha the nudge to ask. 

“Um. This. What’s a sti…stipend?” Misha sounds out the unfamiliar word and looks to Jensen expectantly. 

“Ah, like an allowance. Can I see?” Jensen asks, holding out his hand. He hasn’t had a chance to look this over yet either. Felicia leans back in her chair and watches the two men, part of her giddy with excitement over their obvious connection. 

“Looks like part of this deal is the government giving me an allowance every month to provide for you. Living expenses and such” Jensen looks accusingly at Commander Day. This reads like a damn foster care agreement for a child. He tries not to let his disgust show too much, but he is really getting tired of Misha being treated like a child. 

“Oh” Misha says, somewhat unsure of the source of Jensen’s irritation. There is so much about human culture that he doesn’t understand, apparently something about this situation is bothering Jensen. Misha hopes that it isn’t him. “Um. And this? I have to see a therapist?” Misha looks up at Felicia. He doesn’t want to see a therapist. 

“Yes. To make sure Jensen is treating you well and that you’re adjusting properly. A therapist will be able to help you sort through all of the changes to your life, and help you get any other assistance you might want.” She smiles, ignoring Jensen’s continued glare in favor of trying to comfort the dark haired man in front of her. 

Misha looks back down at the paper, reading through as quickly as he can. He ignores the rest of his questions. He’ll talk to Jensen later about them. He quickly scribbled his new name, hand unsteady and unpracticed. M squiggle. C squiggle. He’ll have to learn how to write it better. He passes the paper to Jensen who also signs, having read most of it over Misha’s shoulder. Misha studies Jensen’s signature and finds that even though he knows the man’s name, he can’t read the organized chaos of his writing. He can make out an A, but it looks more like an O and maybe that’s supposed to be an L? Misha looks up at the Jensen with a raised brow. 

“Shut up” Jensen grumbles, handing the papers back to the Commander. She fights her own laugh at Misha’s condescending expression. She’s told Jensen before that his signature is barely recognizable. His excuse is that it still looks better than Jared’s. 

“Ok. Everything is in order” She slides the papers into a different folder and deposits it into a drawer. “Here are copies for each of you to keep” She adds a small stack of papers to a third folder and hands it to Jensen. 

“Now. Take this to Dr. Murray, he’ll finish your paperwork” She grins, standing from behind her desk. Misha follows her lead, reaching for the folder she offers him. He glances down, seeing that it’s a file of his information. Everything since his rescue, right down to his newly added last name. He’s afraid to look inside. “You should go quickly, it’s getting late” She speaks up when Misha stands for a moment too long just staring at the file she handed him. She can imagine how unenthused he must be to have everything known about him condensed into one pitiful file.  

“Ok” Misha mutters, letting Jensen rest his hand on his shoulder and guide Misha toward the door. 

“Thank you Commander” Jensen turns and salutes before returning his hand to rest on Misha’s lower back. She returns his salute and sends them off. 

Misha leans into Jensen’s touch, the warmth from the other man grounding him and helping to fight off the building dread in his stomach. It’s really happening. They’re leaving Athena in a matter of hours and Misha will see Earth for the first time. At least for the first time that he remembers if Chad is right. 

\--- 

“Collins eh? You didn’t name yourself after that guy from Rent did you?” Chad asks with a raised brow. “I get being out and proud…but really?” He shakes his head with mock disgust. 

“What’s Rent?” Misha looks to Jensen in confusion and ignores Chad’s exasperated sigh. 

“It’s a musical, turned into a movie” Jensen starts to explain but he see’s Misha’s confusion only deepening. “And why do you know Rent anyways?” He turns away from Misha’s complete and utter confusion to face Chad, biting out his question in annoyance. 

“It has a compelling story” Chad sniffs, insulted. “I’m glad to see you’re well on your way to becoming a real person!” Chad turns back to Misha with way too much excitement. 

Misha stares at the man, unsure as to what to say to that. He’s gotten used to Chad being an obnoxious little shit and occasionally to him being serious, but sometimes he goes just a bit too far. Misha cocks his head and continues to stare, deciding not say a word. 

Chad flips through the file, oblivious to Jensen nearly seething in front of him and to Misha’s heavy gaze. He signs a few things, sets some papers aside and generally ignores the other two men. 

Jensen clears his throat with impatience. “Don’t worry Jenny, I haven’t forgotten you” Chad chastises before turning away and sorting through yet another file.  

“Why do I put up with him” Jensen grumbles under his breath, earning himself a sideways glance from Misha. 

“Because deep down, you know you love me” Chad smirks, finally pulling himself away from the stack of papers. “Now. If you two want this to happen, I need to sign off on it. You’d better be nice” Chad directs a squinty glare at Jensen, before turning to smile brightly at Misha. 

“Alright, sign here Jensen” Chad says with an exasperated tone and epic eye roll. He thrusts a small stack of papers in front of Jensen and impatiently taps his pen on the desk while he waits for Jensen to slowly read through everything and add his signature. His tapping gains momentum the longer Jensen takes until the green eyed man can’t take it anymore. 

“Murray! Can you please act like an adult for 5 goddamn minutes!” Jensen bites from across the desk, slamming his pen down and glaring with a force so molten that Misha shrinks back. 

“This is me acting like an adult. I can digress if you’d like” Chad says flatly with a hint of menace, cocking his head at Jensen. 

Jensen snorts with irritation. “What is your problem?!” He grates out, inching forward in his chair and ready to bolt to his feet any moment. It isn’t like Chad to be acting quite this abrasive and he so does not have the patience for this right now. 

“Problem? What problem?” Chad smirks, deliberately pushing Jensen’s buttons now. 

“I swear Murray….” Jensen starts, placing his hands flat on the desk. 

“Sign the papers and get out, Jensen” Chad bites. He’s done playing this game. He’s got enough on his mind without trading barbs with Ackles right now. Their friendship may be based on mutual dislike, but right now? He just can’t. “OUT” He grates louder, nearly shouting, when Jensen continues to try to argue. 

Jensen stands abruptly and Misha follows.  

“Oh no you don’t, Mish. We’ve got business to discuss. Sit” Chad commands of the blue eyed man. 

Misha looks between Jensen and Chad, trying to decide what to do. He still feels compelled to obey orders and he find himself rooted to the spot. Panic flows through him in an instant. Does he have to stay? What will happen if he doesn’t? Will Jensen force him to leave? Should he leave?  

“Fuck” Chad bites out, more to himself than anything. “Misha, please. Have a seat” He tries again, softer this time. It earns him an angry glare from Jensen and a wide eyed stare from Misha. Chad silently pleads with Jensen to help calm the dark haired man down. They can both see the impending anxiety attack.  

Misha stares down at the floor, breathing heavily. He fights his instinct to obey the order to sit, and fights his desire to run from the room. Jensen turns to face him, standing between Misha and Chad. 

“I’m going to wait outside” Jensen whispers in Misha’s ear after taking a deep breath to calm himself. He wants to wring Chad’s neck. He takes a chance and presses a gentle kiss to the man’s temple as he runs a hand down Misha’s arm. To Chad’s credit, he doesn’t snicker at the affectionate display. “No one’s upset with you baby” Jensen coos, too quiet for Chad to overhear.  

Misha finally looks up to meet Jensen’s calm green eyes and he swallows hard, trying to force down the stress of the situation. Misha manages a small nod to Jensen, holding the man’s gaze. 

“You ok?” Jensen asks quietly, thankful that Chad is keeping his mouth _shut_. He smiles gently, still running his hand up and down Misha’s arm. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but I’m sure Chad has something important to talk about” Jensen encourages, trying to help Misha make a decision. 

“I’ll stay” Misha says weakly. He doesn’t want Jensen to leave, but he can’t stand the tension between him and Chad right now. He forces a smile Jensen has to know is fake but the man doesn’t say anything more. 

“Ok. I’ll see you in a few minutes” Jensen rests his hand on Misha’s shoulder as he steps around the man and he walks out the door without a backward glance. He’s pretty sure Chad’s asshole routine was solely for Jensen’s benefit, but he isn’t going to go far just in case.  

Once Jensen is gone and the door is safely shut behind him, Misha turns towards Chad. He still stands frozen to the spot, his heart hammering in worry. Chad makes his somewhat nervous in a good day, but tonight the doctor seems somewhat angry. 

“Come on feathers, have a seat” Chad wearily gestures to the now empty chair as he rests his forehead on his other hand. “Sorry about yelling, I didn’t mean to trigger you” He apologizes, running a hand through his short, spiky hair. Chad leans back in his chair with a sigh as Misha gingerly perches on the edge of a chair. 

“What do you want from me?” Misha asks, his voice small and fragile. He doesn’t look up from the floor. 

“I just need to talk to you without Jensen present, to make sure that you are fully consenting to this arrangement” Chad starts, regretting his attitude with Jensen now that he sees how jumpy it made Misha. It’s moments like this that make it clear how much Misha needs extra support, how traumatized he really is. 

“I want to go with him” Misha mumbles. 

“I can see that” Chad half smirks but he keeps his tone sincere. “Allowing him to be your guardian will give him a huge level of control over you. Where you live, where you can go, what you can do. He’ll be given full access to your medical records and the right to have you committed to an institution, whether or not you agree with him. Do you trust him to have that level of control over you?” Chad asks, not liking how much all of this sounds like Misha is consenting to be Jensen’s slave. It’s more parental, but it could go sideways. Chad trusts that Jensen wouldn’t abuse Misha, he knows the man too well, but it is important for Misha to fully understand what all of this means. 

 Misha raises his eyes to stare at Chad, flashbacks of his time in slavery flashing through his head. This doesn’t sound much different really. Does he trust Jensen that much? 

“Now, if Jensen does step out of line. If he hurts you. I will track him down and kill him myself, then turn him over to the police. I know what it sounds like, but you’re still protected by the law. If he abuses you, hits you, molests you or does anything that is clearly not in your best interest; you would just have to call your social worker and they’ll help you. This isn’t permanent either” Chad tries to explain further and take away the look of fear creeping over Misha’s features again. 

“I. I don’t know” Misha has doubts. He’s terrified that his freedom will be taken away. He hasn’t had it very long but has no doubt that he likes it. “I feel safe with Jensen” Misha admits, but he wonders if that’s enough. Does he even trust himself to make these decisions? No wonder they want him to have a guardian. He’s helpless. 

“Jensen is one of the best men that I know” Chad tries to give Misha some confidence, without telling him what to do. He can see the warring emotions in the other man and he doesn’t want Misha to talk himself out of a good thing. 

“Do you think I should?” Misha asks, wide blue eyes pleading. He wants to agree, to trust Jensen. The thought of being forced into a hospital terrifies him, and he knows that is likely to happen if he doesn’t agree to this. 

“Trust Jensen? I trust him with my life” Chad shrugs. He and Jensen might quarrel like cats and dogs, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t trust the man. “But I can’t tell you what to do” Chad pointedly looks at Misha, who is staring at a very interesting spot on the wall behind Chad’s head.  

“It’s either sign off on this or end up in a hospital, isn’t it?” Misha mutters. His question is met with silence, clearly Chad knows it wasn’t really a question. “Yes. I trust him.” Misha lets out a deep sigh, giving in to himself. 

“I’m glad’ Chad pushes the papers towards Misha who picks up a pen. After everything is signed and Misha has officially made his decision, Chad files them away. “I think you would have been stupid not to do this” Chad finally admits, now that he can. 

Misha smiles halfway. The butterflies in his stomach are still fluttering violently from a mix of excitement and nerves.  

“Now, a couple days ago you mentioned wanting to see if you have family out there?” Chad ask with a hopeful grin. He crosses his fingers that Misha hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Oh. Yeah” Misha is surprised. He had forgotten all about that since his conversation with Felicia this morning.  

“You still want to do that?” Chad asks and Misha nods in reply. “Great! I just gotta take a DNA sample and send it in. It might take a few weeks to get the results back, I’ll have them sent to your doctor back on Earth so they can get them to you.” Chad grins as he swabs Misha’s cheek and seals the container. Hopefully a family out there, and Misha, can get some closure from this. He would kill to find out if his sister is ok somewhere. 

“That’s it?” Misha asks, surprised at how easy that was. 

“Yep” Chad nearly chirps. “Easy as pie. You go on and get some dinner. And you’d better come say goodbye tomorrow! Don’t make me hunt you down next time I have leave” He fixes Misha with a pointed stare. 

“I will” Misha confirms, turning to go. “Thank you, Chad” He turns back to say before opening the door. 

“Good luck” Chad smiles. “They grow up so fast” He sniffs, raising a finger to catch invisible tears. 

Misha shakes his head and lets the door close behind him. Jensen is waiting, as promised and Misha smiles broadly at the sight of him. All the remaining doubts he was holding on to dissolve at the sight of the green eyed man's broad smile. 

\--- 

Later that night, after a long dinner with Christian and Jared; and meeting Jeff, Jensen and Misha find themselves alone again in their room. They decided to push the beds together once they have everything packed for the morning.  

"I can't believe I'm leaving" Jensen shakes his head, staring down at his duffels sitting on the floor; nearly over flowing with the two men's belongings. Misha only has the clothes issued to him, but it's still more than he's ever had in his life. 

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" Misha asks for at least the dozenth time, eyeing Jensen cautiously. 

"Completely" Jensen steps into Misha's space, resting his hands on the other man's hips. 

Misha smiles, feeling a tingle of anticipation run up his spine at Jensen's touch. He steps closer, leaning into Jensen's space so he can wrap his arms around Jensen's waist. He rests his hands on the small of Jensen's back, shuffling his fingers underneath the hem of Jensen's shirt. He feels the heat of bare skin under his fingertips and he pull Jensen closer so their hips are flush. "Thank you" He mutters into the hollow of Jensen's throat, breathing the other man's freshly washed scent and leaving a trail of light kisses up to his ear. 

Jensen's breath hitches at Misha's touches and he feels heat pooling low in his belly. He pulls Misha tighter against him, relishing the feel of his long and lean frame pressing in all the right places. "I want you" Misha whispers in Jensen's ear and the green eyed man's heart nearly stops as his eyes slide closed. 

"You sure?" Jensen manages to croak out, his voice thick and rough with want. He's terrified Misha will say no, will change his mind. 

Misha draws back and nods sharply with a grin. The blue of his eyes barely showing around his lust blown pupils. Misha leans in roughly, capturing Jensen's mouth and relishing the rough stubble rasping against his chin. Chad thinks Misha will start to grow his own stubble soon and the thought brings an even bigger smile to his face. 

"I want you" Misha says again, drawing back from the heated kiss enough to speak. Now it's Jensen's turn to nod as he guides them to the pushed together beds. The green eyed man backs up until his knees bump into the mattress and he carefully sits, pulling Misha down on top of him. 

Misha quickly settles his knees on either side of Jensen's waist on the bed, pushing Jensen's shirt up and over his head before tossing it aside. Misha pushes Jensen back, leaving a trail of kisses down the other man's chest to his naval as Jensen runs his hands underneath Misha's shirt, rucking it up until Misha is forced to raise up enough for Jensen to pull the shirt off. Misha's shirt quick joins Jensen's on the floor and the green eyed man pauses for a moment to study the blue eyed man above him. 

Misha's expression is fixed in determination, the tip of his tongue peaking out from between his lips as his hands travel down, brushing along Jensen's ribs and across his stomach. Jensen moans in appreciation at the touch and his heart nearly stops when Misha backs up off him and starts to undo the fastening on Jensen's pants. Misha's bright blue eyes look to Jensen before pulling, waiting for confirmation.  

Jensen draws his bottom lip into his mouth, teasing it between his teeth as he gives Misha a tight nod. He'll gladly let Misha do anything he wants. Misha tugs the pants down, dragging Jensen's boxers with them and discarding both on the floor after Jensen helps untangle them from his feet. Jensen's hardened cock bobs eagerly against his stomach as Misha resumes his position over Jensen's hips. 

Misha groans at the pressure of Jensen hard beneath him, writhing with the urge to move and desperate for friction. "It's not fair you're still dressed" Jensen mumbles, reaching for Misha's zipper. 

"Mmm, maybe you should do something about that" Misha moans back with a shy smile, grinding down into Jensen's lap. His heart is racing, thumping wildly inside his chest in an effort to escape. He's terrified, exhilarated and painfully hard. Heat builds low in his belly as his inside clench in the best way. Jensen manages to undo his pants and Misha scoots back off of the perfect man beneath him. 

Jensen gives Misha a gentle push so he lands on his back on their enlarged bed. Misha lets out a small giggle as Jensen wiggles his pants over his hips and down his legs. "I never thought I'd _want_ like this" He whispers, the words escaping before he could swallow them down. 

"I'm glad you do" Jensen whispers, each word punctuated by a kiss as he trails across Misha's chest. He pushes up to capture Misha's mouth with his before resuming his trek lower. "You are so perfect" He kisses a line down Misha's throat. "So beautiful" He licks a patch across one of Misha's nipples, catching the nub between his teeth and tugging ever so slightly. He grins around his prize when the blue eyed man gasps and arches off the bed. Jensen circles his tongue around the small bud before pulling back just enough to blow cool air over the hard nub. 

"Oh" Misha shivers at the sensation, fisting his fingers in Jensen's light brown hair. Jensen's hand teases at the other nipple as the other travels down, fingertips lightly dragging down the darker haired man's stomach and over his belly button. Jensen's mouth follows the same path as his hand, kissing and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he goes. 

Jensen's fingers find the head of Misha's hardened cock, the member bobbing excitedly under his touch. Misha gasps at the sensation of Jensen's rough fingers stroking him so gently and he nearly comes on the spot when Jensen's tongue flicks out to tease at his slit. "Jensen" Misha gasps, struggling to remember to breathe at the onslaught of sensation. 

"Hmmm?" Jensen hums around the head of Misha's cock and Misha squeaks as his hips buck up, pushing himself further into the delicious heat of Jensen's mouth. "Jensen!" He shouts in a breathless gasp. 

"Ok?" Jensen questions, drawing back and wrapping his hand loosely around Misha's hardened length. He doesn't give up the motions, even as he licks the remains of the salty pre-come from his lips.  

Misha can barely form words, staring up at the soft green eyes above him, so full of concern and arousal. "I'm gonna come if you keep doing that" Misha mutters, shaking his head with a dopey smile.  

"And what's wrong with that?" Jensen questions, an amused grin forming on his lips. He gives Misha's hardened length a gentle squeeze as he rubs his thumb on the sensitive underside of the head. Misha gasps, awash with pleasure that he's never really been allowed before. 

"I want....I want" Misha struggles to speak, Jensen providing too good of a distraction as the man dips forward, pressing their lips together again. Misha tastes himself on Jensen's tongue as he eagerly grants the green eyed man entry and he moans at the sensation.  

"What do you want?" Jensen teases, drawing back enough to nuzzle just below the blue eyed man's ear. Misha's hair is wild and sex mused from rolling on the bed and Jensen looks down on him adoringly.  

"I.... can I? I want..." Misha stumbles, his cheeks flushing hotly with embarrassment over what he wants to ask.  

"Anything you want baby" Jensen leans back, giving his lover room to breathe, room to collect his thoughts and find his voice. "What do you want?" Jensen asks, head cocked to the side and he draws his fingertips lightly down Misha's sides. 

"You. I want to... you" Misha flushes deeply, turning his head away from the gentle gaze of the man above him. His heart pounds in anticipation, nervousness and arousal. The feels are so intertwined with one another that he would not be able to separate them if he tried, all equally vying for his attention. 

"You have me" Jensen whispers, bringing a hand to rest open palmed over Misha's heart. "But I need you tell me" Jensen nudges, leaning forward to press a kiss to Misha's turned cheek. He doesn't dare voice how adorable he finds Misha to be in this moment, shy and bashful with his cheeks bright red, his dark hair a mop on his head with those bright blue eyes. He is the perfect picture of debauched. 

Misha forces himself to turn back to Jensen, swallowing his nerves. He's never dared to _ask_ for anything like this before. "I've never... been _inside_." Misha swallows hard around the word, muffling it to the point where Jensen can barely hear. 

"You want to?" Jensen scoots forward again with a smile. This is something he would be perfectly happy to give. His smile grows with Misha's barely noticeable nod. "Hey, look at me" Jensen coaxes, his voice gone rough with arousal. Blue eyes slowly peek open, looking at Jensen warily. Jensen leans forward to whisper in Misha's ear "I want you to fuck me" He half groans, grinding down on Misha's erection and relishing the hard line underneath him. 

The words send a bone deep shiver through Misha, Jensen’s low and rough voice all but begging in his ear. The blue eyed man trembles as he reaches for Jensen, gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him closer and his other hand drifts lower. He wraps his slender fingers firmly around the other man's length, eliciting another groan from Jensen. 

The green eyed man scoots to straddle Misha higher and reaches to guide Misha's hand back. Misha can hardly breathe with what he's about to do. He gently runs his hand over the cleft of Jensen's ass, circling the dimples at the base of his spine and slowly drifting lower. His finger search and find the tight furl of muscle and Jensen gasps when he circles his finger around it. 

Jensen groans and leans back, pressing into Misha's exploring digit and moans at the delicious pressure on his tight pucker. "Hold on" He regretfully mutters, leaning far forward to reach for the drawer in the stand next to the bed. One of the last things he didn't pack, just in case. 

"Jensen?" Misha worries, wondering why Jensen wanted to stop.  

"This'll help" Jensen triumphantly holds up the small bottle of clear gel. Misha's smile brightens in recognition as Jensen hands him the bottle. 

The blue eyed man makes short work of lubing a finger and returning to Jensen's hole. Jensen leans back eagerly against the invading digit and a low groan rips from his chest when Misha presses hard enough to breach his entrance.  

The pressure is strange, it doesn't really feel good yet, but it is far from bad. He urges Misha deeper but realizes the angle is awkward. He throws his head back in a whimper when Misha's finger sinks past the first knuckle and curls inside him. His body craves more even as Misha wraps his free hand around Jensen's weeping cock. 

Misha tries to add a second finger, but the angle just isn’t working. He reaches a hand to Jensen’s shoulder, urging the man down towards the side. Misha smiles and ducks his head when the Jensen goes eagerly, settling on his back as Misha scoots between Jensen’s legs. 

The blue eyed man stretches up to meet Jensen’s mouth, their tongues sloppily mingling as Misha resumes his ministrations. “I’ve never done this” Misha admits, pressing his forehead to Jensen’s in nervousness. 

“Me neither” Jensen answers and the green eyed man finds himself staring into alarmed blue eyes. Misha freezes, terrified now of hurting Jensen. “I want you” Jensen bucks his hips for emphasis. He’s never been with a guy like this, hasn’t gone this far before “Please” He pleads, his neglected cock throbbing with arousal as he takes in the barely visible blue of Misha’s eyes around his lust blown pupils. 

Misha nods, swallowing hard as he leans back in to kiss Jensen’s mind away from what his fingers are doing below. He quickly sinks his first finger in, meeting almost no resistance and Jensen quickly encourages another. Jensen feels so tight around his fingers, but the man underneath him is breathlessly begging for more. 

Jensen’s hips arch off the bed when Misha’s long fingers brush against an electric spot inside him. “Fuck” Jensen bites in response to the unexpected jolt of pleasure and Misha freezes, looking down at Jensen worriedly. “Do that again” Jensen rolls his hips, urging Misha on. Misha obliges cautiously and Jensen moans filthily, much to Misha’s delight.  

The blue eyed man trails kisses down Jensen’s chest as he works his fingers inside his lover. He nuzzles Jensen’s rock hard cock and licks a stripe along the underside from the base to the tip. He adds a third finger as he quickly sucks the head into his mouth. Jensen clutches at his hair and arches his back off the bed, digging his head into the pillow.  

The green eyed man gasps Misha’s name as he does impossible things with his tongue before swallowing Jensen to the root. Misha runs his free hand up across Jensen’s stomach, feeling the light sheen of sweat on the other mans body. 

“Please” Jensen rasps, begging for more of everything. Misha releases Jensen’s cock with a sloppy, wet pop and looks up at the man with a questioning look. 

Jensen is flushed, his skin hot all over and desperate for more. His skins feels too tight, like he’s about to burst. “Please” He whines, wiggling down harder onto Misha’s fingers. Misha smiles smugly at the sight of his strong and fearless Jensen writhing in desperation below him and he scissors his fingers as he twists his wrist slightly.  

Jensen’s eyes fly open wide and his head falls back. “Now. Please” He begs and his hips buck beyond his control. He whimpers at the loss of Misha’s fingers as the man pulls them out and glances down to see Misha’s slender fingers stroking his own red and leaking cock. Jensen forces down his worries at Misha’s size, he’s so much bigger than just fingers, but he trusts the other man not to hurt him. He can’t help the tongue that darts out to lick his lips at the sight of Misha’s disheveled hair and hungry eyes roaming Jensen’s flushed body. 

“So beautiful” Misha whispers, ignoring his demanding cock long enough to lean forward to kiss Jensen. He clicks open the lube bottle and slicks himself up, adding a little extra to Jensen’s worked open hole. “You sure?” Misha can’t help but ask even as he’s lining himself up. Jensen nods vigorously, not trusting his voice to form actual words right now and his heart flutters at the smile that crosses Misha’s face. 

It is impossible to tell where one man’s groan begins and the other’s ends as Misha slowly sinks inside Jensen’s stretched hole. Jensen forces himself to relax against the invasion and Misha nearly sobs at the foreign feeling of pressure around his cock. Jensen throws his head back and his breath stutters when Misha finally bottoms out, feeling impossibly full. 

“Ok?” Misha asks cautiously, eyeing Jensen’s flagging erection with concern. The man didn’t say anything, but Misha knows how much it can hurt. Green eyes turn to meet his, Jensen blinking hard to clear his vision.  

Jensen swallows hard, willing his body to relax against the intrusion and he takes a deep breath. He can feel the tension draining as Misha rocks back and forth, not really moving but the sensation soothing. Jensen nods but Misha still looks wary. “Move” Jensen pleads, the pleasure quickly returning as the sharp sting dissipates.  

Misha slowly drags out an inch before sinking back in, revealing in the pressure. Jensen’s channel so tight around him that it’s just this side of painful. Jensen groans at the movement as his cock begins to fill and Misha slowly picks up the pace, nearly pulling out before shoving back in. 

Sparks cloud Jensen’s vision as Misha drags over that incredible spot inside him and his body thrusts to meet Misha’s hips of its own volition. “There, oooh, again” Jensen mutters, nearly incoherent as Misha makes it his mission to hit that spot as much as possible. 

Their breathing becomes heavier with every stroke, every slap of skin against skin and Misha grunting with the effort. The blue eyed man takes Jensen’s swollen and angry cock in hand, wrapping his fingers loosely around the member and Jensen nearly cries at the sensation.  

The feeling of Misha moving inside him, the explosive pleasure of Misha’s thick cock dragging across his prostrate on every stroke and the sensation of those strong fingers gently stroking his now desperate cock brings tears to his eyes. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. He clenches one hand around the strong arm bracketing his chest and the other in the sheet as he moans and whimpers wantonly.  

“Feels. So. Good” Misha stutters between breaths, taking in the overwhelmed and blissed out expression on Jensen’s face as their hips meet again and again. He tightens his hold on Jensen’s dripping cock and sweeps his thumb in circles around the head before pressing over to slightly on his slit. Jensen bucks up with a surprised cry, his cocking spurting hotly between them. Misha grins as he strokes Jensen through his orgasm, feeling his own coming quickly.  

Misha slams in hard, drawing a cry from Jensen that sounds like something resembling Misha’s name, and grinds against Jensen’s ass. He can feel his balls tightening as he draws back quickly and pushes back in frantically. Jensen’s hole flutters around him, pulling his climax faster and faster. Jensen’s cock is still spurting when Misha buries himself deep inside Jensen and he falls forward to kiss the man underneath him. His vision whites out as his body seizes in pleasure. 

They share wet and sloppy kisses around their heavy breathing as Misha’s pace slows to work through his orgasm, Jensen clenching tight around his spasming cock. Misha stills, resting his sweaty brow against Jensen’s collar bone as the man plants breathless kisses in his hair and on very part of his face he can reach. 

“That was awesome” Jensen mumbles around his dopey smile. He can feel Misha softening inside him and doesn’t want this to end. The initially strange feeling of fullness is oddly comforting now and he doesn’t want to let it go. 

Misha slides out of Jensen without a word, dropping to the mattress beside the green eyed man. He flashes Jensen a grin when he feels those emerald eyes turn to study him. He can’t quite find it in himself to speak right now, but he knows he needs to get a towel or something to clean them both up. 

Jensen readily returns Misha’s grin, feeling satisfaction on a bone deep level. He could get used to this. 

Misha groans as he rolls to his side, spotting one of their shirts on the floor within reach. He bends down to scoop it up and quickly runs it over the sticky mess on Jensen’s stomach, before wiping his own stomach. He smirks devilishly as he slides between Jensen’s legs once again. The man’s eyes are closed with a satisfied smile on his face as Misha gently wipes his soft cock. 

Misha considers for a moment, and green eyes fly open as Misha dips his head down and licks a stripe across Jensen’s stretched hole. 

“Oh God” Jensen gasps at the sensation of that soft tongue swirling around his rim and pushing inside. He nearly launches off the bed as his cock tries in vain to show interest. “Misha!” He pants, torn between this intense pleasure and exhaustion. 

Misha turns his gaze upwards without stopping the teasing motions with his tongue. “Mmmm?” He hums around Jensen’s fluttering hole. His hum turns into a smirk when he see’s Jensen’s wide green eyes as the man struggles to look at him. His light brown hair is sticking up in all directions and the flush on his cheeks make his freckles stand out even more. “Just making sure you were ok” Misha grins at Jensen’s heavy breathing as he pulls away from his task. It seems that Jensen is, no sign of any tearing or injury. 

Jensen grabs for him clumsily, pulling Misha up into a filthy kiss as the dark haired man flops back beside him. “I’m better than ok” Jensen mutters, snuggling into Misha’s chest. 

“Me to” Misha mumbles into Jensen’s hair, barely coherent as exhaustion tugs at his eyelids. 

They fall asleep wrapped around each other. For the first time that he can remember, Misha isn’t afraid. He can’t see the swirling dust of the stars beyond the window from where he lays, but he feels safe and warm with a man who he’s sure will never hurt him.  

Misha no longer needs the cold indifference of the stars telling him that he is insignificant. That the universe will go on with or without him, no matter how much he is made to suffer. 

He has a reason to hope. He has a reason to dream. He has Jensen. He has freedom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this story has been somewhat enjoyable, I'm trying to improve my writing skills and the best way to do that is to write. I'm planning on one more chapter, set as an epilogue at a point in the future. It might take a week or two to get up though, I haven't even started writing it yet.


	16. One year later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year after Misha and Jensen left Athena and space behind. While the two are happy and sickeningly sweet in love, one more thing needs to happen for Misha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue to the original story that I wanted to include because I'm a sap...but no matter how many times I wrote, edited and rewrote this I just couldn't find a place where I was happy with it. I finally decided to just call it as good as its going to get and post it. 
> 
> I struggled with this chapter. A lot. Writing in a real life person who isn't famous gave me huge amounts of stress and anxiety because I know next to nothing about this man but he needed a place in this story. The story gave me no choice. 
> 
> All things considered, this epilogue is sappy and fluffy and wonderfully devoid of a villain. I hope you enjoy.

"Jensen!" The green eyed man hears a gravely shout from the bedroom he shares with Misha and he chuckles lowly as he turns his head to look in the direction of the call.

"We're gonna be late Mish!" Jensen calls back, trying to force himself not to go and drag his boyfriend away from his search. He pushes himself to his feet from their overstuffed leather sofa and imagines the mess being made in their room as Misha rifles through everything they own while looking for the bracelet Jensen already has tucked into his pocket. He can't help the devious grin creeping over his face at the thought of how adorably frustrated Misha is getting.

"I can't find it Jen!" Misha whines, rounding the corner with a pout and giving Jensen puppy dog eyes that nearly rival Jared's. "Help me?" The blue eyed man drops his hands to hook his thumbs into Jensen's belt loops and tugs the green eyed man closer; looking defeated. Jensen stands toe to toe with his boyfriend, enjoying the closeness and ease they've come to share. He reaches to rest his hands on Misha's shoulders before gently running them down the other man's arms to grasp his hands and remove them from his belt.

"You don't need that old thing you know" Jensen whispers gently, his green eyes staring deeply into Misha's blue ones as he tips his head down to lay a kiss on the tip of Misha's nose.

Misha can't help but giggle at the cute little gesture and a grin breaks across his formerly serious expression. "I know" He mumbles,  "but I want it. I don't want to forget" He whines, trying his absolute hardest to give Jensen the most heartbreaking puppy dogs eyes ever to have existed.

"Baby, I don't think either of us could ever forget" Jensen draws the man into a hug, almost feeling bad about hiding the bracelet that Misha had made out of his former collar. At first he couldn't comprehend why Misha would want to keep a reminder of all the pain and abuse he had lived through, but Jensen has come to understand the other man’s reluctance to let go. It's been nearly a year since Jensen brought the former slave to Texas and settled down with him. Anyone who hadn't known Misha then would never guess what the man has been through.

"I know. It's just....The doctor said he has news. I'm scared" Misha admits, drawing back from Jensen just far enough to make eye contact with him.

Jensen brushes his thumb across Misha's coarsely stubbled cheek and can't help his smile at the simple fact that his boyfriend could use a shave. It took most of the last year for the hormones and other drugs forced upon Misha to work their way out of his system. He's filled out quite a lot, weighing nearly as much as Jensen now. He's developed into a very handsome man and Jensen still can't believe how lucky he is that Misha puts up with him. "I'll be right there with you. It'll be fine" He tries to console. The truth is, Jensen is nearly as nervous as Misha.

The DNA test got held up due to Misha's status as a freed slave. His doctor on Earth decided that it would be best until Misha was more stable and accustomed to life on Earth as a free man before bringing any possible family into the mix. After Jensen's initial anger, and having to prevent Chad from stowing away on the first vessel headed to Earth so that he could "wring the life out of the slimy bassackwards remnant of orange leviathan drool" (Chad's words, not Jensen's)  that is Dr. Stewart; Jensen could understand where the doctor was coming from. Misha handled the whole argument like a man watching from the outside, like none of it really concerned him and Jensen had been worried about that level of detachment. He had been worried until Dr. Stewart explained to him how likely it is that none of this feels real to the blue eyed man, that it feels like it's happening to someone else and that it will take time for him to process everything. That it would be best to take things one change at a time. To allow Misha to figure out who he is before forcing more people on him who likely won't understand what Misha is going through. Jensen has had to remind himself over and over again that he can’t expect Misha to handle the chance of seeing his family like he himself would have. Misha didn’t have the luxury of growing up with a loving family. For all they knew, his family were the ones who sold Misha into galactic slavery.

Their first months back on Earth saw Misha jumping at every honking horn, every raised voice and Jensen doesn't even want to think back to their first fourth of July and the anxiety that came with every single pop of fireworks. Misha was a mess and Jensen has a hard time disagreeing with Dr. Stewart that reuniting Misha with the family he doesn't even remember might have pushed the man over the edge.

In contrast to all of the anxiety laden experiences, the child-like delight Misha experienced the first time he felt grass under his feet and sand between his toes was something to behold. The bubbling laughter and gummy grin that makes Misha squint so that the blue of his eyes can barley be seen? Jensen lives for that. Watching Misha dancing to music in their living room, wearing nothing but one of Jensen’s old classic rock T shirts and his bright orange boxers never fails to make Jensen melt, and when Misha turns those piercing blue eyes on him and his messy sex hair…well Jensen can barely breathe at the sight. Those moments made Jensen love the blue eyed man even more. Jensen was, and still is, baffled by Misha’s love for orange underwear. Nearly every single pair the man owns is bright and obnoxious. Jensen had thought that maybe the love of orange would lead Misha to becoming a Texas Longhorns fan, but no….it was just about the underwear. “It’s lucky” Misha had explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his blue eyes wide and crooked grin making Jensen’s heart skip a beat. No, Jensen doesn’t understand it but he isn’t going to complain. 

Jensen contentedly holds the other man as they gently sway in the middle of their living room. Jensen is thankful every day for the progress Misha has made and the life they've built together. He's still half terrified that one day Misha will realize that he could do so much better than a retired soldier covered in scars who walks with a slight limp from his many injuries. But, he knows that Misha feels the same way about himself. The blue eyed man has told him more than once how he still can't believe that someone like Jensen would  _want_  a broken and beaten former slave who has to cling to a piece of his old collar just to make it through most days.

"Will you help me find my bracelet?" Misha whispers into the crook of Jensen’s neck, still holding tight but melting into Jensen's arms. 

"Only if you help me clean up the mess you made of our room" Jensen mumbles with a smirk on his lips as he nuzzles behind the other man's ear.

"Fine" Misha mutters in agreement, pushing back from Jensen just enough to glance up and see the look on the other man's face.

Cobalt eyes narrow suspiciously at the sight of the playful smirk creeping across Jensen's face. "What did you do?" Misha draws back further, his voice pitching lower and sending a shiver up Jensen's spine. He turns his head to glare sideways at Jensen as the green eyed man's smile grows and he takes a step back and settles his hands on his hips, eyes narrowed to slits that swallow the cerulean of his irises and mouth pressed into a harsh line.

Jensen can't help the bark of laughter that escapes at Misha’s stern expression. Misha has perfected the  _oh no you didn’t_ glare far more than any white man ought to be able to. Jensen digs a hand into his pocket to find the familiar strip of leather as the glare on the other man’s face falters with confusion in the face of Jensen’s laughter.

 Jensen swallows hard as his hand closes around the strip of leather in his pocket and his nerves rise in his stomach as he wonders if he did the right thing. It’s too late now to change his mind as he pulls his hand from his pocket and extends it towards the other man. He slowly opens his palm to reveal two nearly identical bracelets and his green eyes sparkle at the look of surprise on Misha's face. Jensen fiddles with the bracelets for a moment, glancing down at them and drawing his lower lip between his teeth. Was he right to do this?

"I know you said to get rid of it" Jensen says lowly as he turns the strips of smooth leather in his hands. "But...I couldn't." He glances up through his eyelashes to take in Misha's expression. The blue eyed man is looking at him cautiously, eyes darting between the bracelets in Jensen's hands and those green eyes; searching for meaning. "I want....if it's ok with you...I want to wear one to?" Jensen mumbles, making his last part more of a question than his planned statement.

Misha's eyes grow wide, the blue sparkling in the sunlit room as he steps closer to Jensen. He brings his fingers to his lips to hide the slight quiver he can feel residing there. A sharp tug in his chest reminds him of just how perfect, how amazing the freckled man in front of him is and how little Misha feels that he deserves his love. Misha nods, reaching for the new bracelet so that he can place it on Jensen's wrist.

He turns the strip of leather in his hand, remembering the last time he wore this. Jensen took it off not long after their arrival to Athena, when they barely knew each other. Even then, Jensen took such care in prying the collar from his neck that Misha began to love his green eyed savior. He hadn't dared to hope that he would mean anything to Jensen. He smiles at the reminder. Seeing for himself how much he's changed over the last year and how much Jensen has changed as well.

“Misha and Jensen” The bracelet reads, stamped in dark letters on the inside of the cuff. Misha’s eyes dart up to meet Jensen’s, a flurry of emotions swirling in his chest as he takes in the green eyed man’s expression. Love, adoration, gratefulness, disbelief….so many feelings rise in Misha’s chest that he can’t quite identify everything, overwhelmed tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes.

A smile causes the corners of Jensen’s mouth to twitch as he see’s the moisture pooling and threatening to flow down Misha’s cheeks. “Hey now, don’t cry” Jensen whispers, lifting a hand to thumb at the tear that has escaped and runs down Misha’s cheek. Jensen uses his other hand to rest on the back of Misha’s neck, drawing the other man closer and he presses a gentle kiss to his dark and messy hairline.

Misha barks out a laugh, drawing back and wiping his eyes. “Why am I crying?” He mutters, half embarrassed and half not caring as he reaches for Jensen’s wrist. He quickly fastens the simple snap, circling his lover’s wrist in the last remaining piece of Misha’s servitude. He barks out another laugh. “You’re mine” He growls possessively, pulling Jensen into a hard kiss; their teeth clack together but neither man cares as they both smile into the kiss.

“Always” Jensen whispers as they pull back from each other, grinning from ear to ear. Something unclenches in Jensen’s chest, relaxing now that he knows that Misha is ok with the second bracelet. “I love you Mish” He mutters, pulling the blue eyed man close again. They fit together like they were made to, like they had been doing this their entire lives instead of only the last year.

“Love you too Jen” Misha mutters into Jensen’s shoulder. “We should get going” Blue eyes meet green as Misha pulls back. He’s terrified but also exciting to hear the results of his DNA test. He’s been assured that the findings would be investigated, and that he would be safe no matter what was found out. Misha has to believe that he was stolen, that his family didn’t sell him. He had told the doctor not to tell him if they did, that he should lie and tell him that they didn’t find a match. He can’t let himself believe that the people who were supposed to love him were the ones responsible for the hell his life had been.

“Ok” Jensen smiles gently, reaching for his keys on the table. Misha slips into his shoes, staring at them for a beat longer than necessary as he often does. Part of Misha still has a hard time believing that all of this is real. That he’s free, has belongings and someone who loves him. “You ready?” Jensen asks, touching his boyfriend lightly on the shoulder.

Misha nods, the absolute terror rising in him yet again at the prospect of learning of his family. He forces himself to step past Jensen, out onto their front step. Jensen makes short work of locking the door behind them; but by the time he’s done, Misha is standing by the car.

Misha learned quickly not to get into the car right away when it’s been sitting in the Texas sun. The hot sun turns the black interior of the car into a blistering oven. Misha still convinces himself that he can feel the phantom pain of the back of his thighs sticking to the leather seat when he dropped onto it the first time he wore shorts, just as Jensen was hurriedly shouting at him to stop. That memory causes him to wait.

They each open their doors and close their eyes against the heat rushing to escape the confines of the car. Jensen reaches in, slipping the key into the ignition and the beast roars to life. The AC kicks on, blowing desert quality air that is somehow even hotter than the already molten temperature inside the car. “We really ought to start the car sooner” Jensen grumbles as he checks his watch. They’re going to be late.

Eventually, the car is deemed habitable and they slip inside for the journey into Austin. They only have to travel ten miles, but it may as well be fifty with the amount of traffic they have to contend with. Never mind that it’s 1 o’clock on a Tuesday. In a city like Austin, time means nothing to the hoards of people in no particular hurry to get anywhere. 

Speed limit 70? The collective thought is to do 60 in 3 lanes, and 45 in the fast lane. No one is getting anywhere. Except that one douchebag in the Corvette trying to do 120 while delicately weaving across all four lanes of traffic. That is just how it’s done in Texas. Jensen had forgotten, having been away for so long. He wants to yell and rage at the slow moving traffic, but he knows that Misha will cringe at his raised voice, so he resists. He’s jealous of the jerk in the Corvette.

The ten mile drive takes nearly a half hour. The car is blessedly cold by the time they arrive outside of the tall and pristine looking medical building just outside of downtown. Maybe Jensen will take Misha to Voodoo doughnuts after they’re done. When they have it, the Gonzo doughnut never fails to brighten the dark haired man’s mood, no matter how sweltering hot the bakery is inside. Jensen has a feeling they might need it.

Jensen whips the car into a spot in the middle of the parking garage, thankful they didn’t have to park on the sunny roof. Misha is nearly vibrating when Jensen slips his hand into the other man’s as they approach the elevator. 

“It’ll be ok” Jensen squeezes his lover’s hand, trying to send as much warmth and comfort towards the other man as possible. His efforts earn him a weak nod and not even one flash of blue. Misha stares straight ahead as if the elevator holds all of the answers.

Once they reach the bottom floor of the garage, the door slides open in the other side from the door they entered through. A brightly lit and slightly loud lobby is revealed, showing all of the joys to be found within a hospital, complete with the antiseptic smell of cleaners that can never quite cover the reek of sickness. Jensen cringes and Misha clenches his jaw until he’s frowning. He hates this place.

Misha squeezes Jensen’s hand harder as they make their way across the first floor. The outpatient offices are located on the other side of the building. Not for the first time, Jensen wishes they could have parked closer and avoided this part.

They quickly duck in to the next elevator and it whisks them up to the seventh floor.

\---

“…brother. Where is he!” They hear a deep, raised voice coming from the reception area as the door slides open with a ping. They step off as the commotion continues. Jensen lets go of Misha’s hand, urging the man to stay where he is as Jensen rounds the corner to investigate.

“We’ve been looking for him for over 20 years. I know this office sent in a DNA sample that matched. I got the notification!” The man turns as Jensen comes into view, his hands still gripping the reception desk, the frazzled receptionist meets Jensen’s eyes and quickly shakes her head in warning before Jensen shifts his gaze to the man causing the scene.

Jensen meet familiar blue eyes and can’t help but stare, dumbfounded. “Mr. Krushnic. Please, calm down” The receptionist pleads with man, demanding that he return his attentions to her. Jensen stands rooted to the spot as comprehension slowly dawns on him.

“Please, sir. If you could come with me, I’ll let the doctor know that you wish to speak with him” Kim firmly requests. The situation is as obvious to her as it has become to Jensen. The green eyed man has never been more grateful that Misha had hung back by the elevator.

“Finally” The blue eyed stranger sighs, turning his gaze back to Jensen and offering the green eyed man a weak smile in apology for the scene he had caused. Jensen swallows hard, unsure of what to say.

“Dmitri” The stranger whispers, focusing on a point behind Jensen; his blue eyes widening in shock. “Dmitri” He says again, louder, calling to someone lurking beyond the spot Jensen stands frozen to.

Jensen turns with a sinking feeling in his gut. His gaze settles on widened blue eyes that are staring at the stranger in disbelief. Jensen locks eyes with his lover briefly, those blue eyes widen further in fear and confusion. Jensen turns back to the strange man and plants himself between the two men. Going by looks, this is Misha’s long lost brother; but that doesn’t mean that he’s allowed anywhere near the man. 

Tears fill blue eyes that are only a little paler than Misha’s and Jensen reaches to place a hand on the strange man’s chest, pushing him back as he takes a step towards the elevators. The stranger turns his confused gaze to Jensen, not comprehending why he is being kept away. The man allows Jensen to pin him against the wall before he realizes what’s happening. He’s no match for Jensen. “Dmitri, please! It’s me. Sasha” He pleads as Misha continues to stare blankly.

“Mr. Collins, please come with me” Kim urges as Jensen continues to hold the other man to the wall.

Misha doesn’t say a word as he slips past, his back brushing against the wall as he skirts as far as he can around the stranger without taking his crystal blue eyes off him. Misha can't help the deep, sinking feeling spreading through his gut. He’d have to be blind not to see the resemblance. The man could be Misha’s twin for all he knows. Except, Misha’s name is not Dmitri.

Jensen breathes a sigh of relief as Misha disappears behind the door with the receptionist and he hears the click of the lock sealing them inside. He relaxes his hold, realizing that somehow his arm came to be pressed across the other man’s throat.

“’Mitri” The other man mutters, still staring at the door. He turns sad blue eyes to Jensen when the green eyed man steps away. Jensen watches warily as the stranger drops into a chair, shaking his head. “He didn’t know me” Sasha mutters, soft eyes pleading with Jensen for understanding. “I’ve been searching for years and he didn’t know me” Sasha’s face crumples in defeat as he drops his head into his hands.

Jensen doesn’t sense a threat to his lover from this man. This brother. Part of Jensen wants to offer comfort, but he doesn’t know what to say. There are too many questions here and Jensen doesn’t know where to begin.

“Jensen? He’s asking for you” Kim says quietly. He hadn’t even noticed the door opening. Two sets of eyes flash to the deep chestnut colored door that Kim is standing in front of. 

Jensen nods sharply, relieved that this Sasha seems calmer now and that Misha is asking for him. He moves to take a step, but stops himself. “Just….wait here. I’ll ask if he wants to see you” Jensen mutters, knowing the other man will hear. He doesn’t know if Misha will want to talk to this man right now, or ever, but something inside Jensen hopes that he does. 

Jensen hears a mumbled  _thank you_  as he walks away. Kim steps aside to let him through. “I don’t think he’ll be a problem” Jensen leans down to reassure her. He has no doubt that Ms. Rhodes can fend Sasha off, he’d bet on her any day, but this is still an awkward situation.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Jensen hears Kim kindly ask of Sasha as the pulls the door closed behind him. Jensen doesn’t wait for an answer, his feet are in too much of a hurry to get to Misha.

Jensen finds his friend through the second door on the left, his feet pushed up in the edge of the overstuffed leather couch with his arms wrapped around his knees and his face buried in them. Misha startles when the door opens, glancing up at Jensen with wide eyes. “Was that?!” Misha half gasps and Jensen can see the fine tremors coursing through him as Misha unfolds himself. 

“I think so” Jensen mutters as he draws Misha into his arms. Misha fumbles, feeling for the strip of leather around Jensen’s wrist and wrapping his hand around it. “It’s ok though. He  _wants_  to see you. He was looking for you baby. Your family has been looking for you” Jensen says, rubbing circles on Misha’s back and hoping that the blue eyed man finds the thought comforting.

“They want me?” Misha asks, his voice so small that Jensen nearly misses it.

“They do” Jensen hugs tighter, not daring to loosen his hold. He just hopes that Misha still wants him now that it seems he has a family out in the waiting room.

“Mr. Collins. I sincerely apologize for that man outside” A gruff voice starts behind them. “I plan to look into how he managed to get the information to lead him here” Dr. Stewart continues to apologize as he rounds his desk. He knows by now to not even bother trying to shake Misha’s hand. It seems that Jensen is the only one who Misha allows to touch him.

Misha peels away from Jensen but refuses to let go of his hand. “Is he my brother?” Misha asks, his voice firm and level. Jensen is a little bit impressed, just a moment ago he could feel how hard Misha’s heart was hammering inside his chest.

“It would seem that he is” Dr. Stewart replies calmly as he gestures for the two men to sit. “Would you like Jensen to remain here with you or step outside?” The doctor asks. Jensen no longer bristles at the question, he’s come to understand that even though they all know that answer, the doctor still has to ask every time.

“I want him here” Misha replies, squeezing Jensen’s hand a little harder as he offers the green eyed man a quick smile.

“Alright. Shall I get straight to the results of your DNA test or is there anything else you would like to discuss first?” The doctor asks with a raised brow. They already know the answer to that question.

“The test” Misha replies, leaning into Jensen’s side as if the green eyed man has the powers to shield Misha from everything that might hurt him.

“Ok then. There was a match. Obviously” Dr. Stewart begins with a smile. “Your DNA matches that of six year old Dmitri Krushnic who disappeared from a park twenty four years ago. The family was poor and could not afford an extensive investigation. Local police never found any information or leads as to how the boy disappeared. He seemed to have vanished” The doctor finishes, searching Misha’s expression for understanding.

“My name’s not Dmitri” Misha says with conviction, expression colored with disbelief as he shakes his head. “That can’t be me” He can’t bring himself to meet the doctor’s eyes. There’s no way he’s that little boy.

“We have good reason to believe that you are. One, DNA doesn’t lie. Two, Rebecca Tippins, Dmitri’s mother, reported that her son answered to his nickname more than his given name. Misha.” Blue eyes dart up to meet with the doctor’s grey ones but he can’t seem to form words. “You have a younger brother, Sasha, whom you saw on your way in. He was four when you disappeared”

“You ok baby?” Jensen asks softly, wrapping his arm around Misha’s shoulders, concerned by his stunned silence.

“My brother” Misha mutters, glancing towards the door.

“Yes Misha. Your family never stopped looking for you. Do you understand? They never stopped looking” Dr. Stewart stresses. He knows that one of Misha’s greatest fears is that his family hadn’t wanted him. That they had sold him into slavery. He won’t lie and say that he didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when Misha’s DNA results came back matching a missing person’s report.

“I was stolen from them?” Misha looks up through his eyelashes at the doctor, his vision clouded by tears.

“That appears to be the case. It was supposed to be your decision as to if and when you contact them, but it would seem that your brother has a source that alerted him to a match on your DNA sample.” Dr. Stewart’s annoyance grows at the last of his statement. There is a serious breech of patient confidentiality somewhere between his office and the genetic testing lab and he needs to have it investigated. The government went to great pains to keep Misha’s story under the table to avoid a media frenzy and someone compromised their entire effort.

“My brother” Misha says again, staring at the door as if he could somehow see the man that he knows is still waiting on the other side. “I have a brother” He twists in Jensen’s arms to meet the other mans eyes, his crystalline blue meeting Jensen’s soft green wide with disbelief, excitement and more than a little fear.

“Do you want to meet him?” Jensen asks softly, bumping his knee against Misha’s. Misha glances back towards the door and tenses, as if it might suddenly fly open of its own accord.

Misha turns his cerulean gaze back towards Jensen and stares. Jensen shifts uncomfortably under the penetrating gaze before shifting his eyes down. He’ll never get used to how Misha can stare right through a person as if examining their very soul.

“I can make him leave if you’d like. Or we can bring him in. It’s up to you” Dr. Stewart interrupts. 

“Can you talk to him first?” Misha asks, still staring down Jensen. Jensen raises his eyes at Misha’s question. “I don’t remember him. Or anyone. Can you tell him Jen?” Misha pleads, wanting to meet his long lost brother but terrified of the questions he might ask.

“Tell him what, sweetheart?” Jensen asks, gathering one of Misha’s hands on both of his.

“That I don’t remember” Misha half sobs. “I should remember him” Misha falls forward, leaning his forehead against Jensen’s collar and fisting in the other man’s shirt.

“Hey. It’s ok” Jensen comforts and the doctor stays blessedly quiet. “I can tell him whatever you want me to” He runs his hand along Misha’s back, relishing the fact that Misha is firm and solid beneath his touch. Gone are the bony bumps of his spine and ridges marking each and every rib. Now only smooth muscle can be felt. Misha looks as strong on the outside as Jensen knows he in on the inside.

“Will you get him?” Misha sniffles as he pulls back. Jensen nods and offers a smile, glancing towards the doctor to make sure that this is ok.

“I feel that it would be best for this first meeting to be supervised. If Misha is ready, this would be an excellent opportunity for them to meet. However unplanned it may be” Dr. Stewart says calmly to Jensen, his tone measured and careful as he studies Misha’s expression for any doubts. He has been continually impressed by his patient’s ability to adapt to challenges and heal from his past. He doesn’t doubt that Misha can do this

“Please” Misha whispers to Jensen as he nods to his doctor. 

“Ok. I’ll go get him” Jensen says to the room as he makes to stand. The determination on his lover’s face is obvious. Misha will do this and there will be no changing his mind. Maybe it’s for the best that this meeting came so suddenly, without the opportunity for Misha to stress and worry. He leans forward and plants a lingering kiss on the darker man’s forehead as he rises and Misha hums at the contact. The green eyed man takes a deep breath before quickly stepping from the room, before he loses his nerve.

\---

“Sasha?” Jensen calls as he slips through the door to the reception area. Kim perks up at his appearance, flitting her gaze between the two men as Sasha jumps to his feet. Jensen’s heart hammers in his chest and he fights the slight tremor he can feel in his own hands. He forces a calming breath and lets his eyes slip closed for just a second, long enough for him to call upon his training as a diplomat and shove his own nerves aside.

“Does he want to see me?” Sasha asks desperately. Jensen feels as if the man might break apart if he’s told no. Lines from years of worry are etched around the man’s eyes, dark circle shadow his cheeks as if he had caught the first plane from wherever he was in order to show up at the office of the doctor who matched his brother’s DNA.

“He does” Jensen tells him and watches the man’s shoulders drop with the breath he had been holding. “I…I’m Jensen by the way. Misha’s….boyfriend” Jensen offers his hand and Sasha eagerly takes it.

“Misha?” Sasha asks, tone hopeful.

“Yeah. He goes by Misha. There is a lot that he doesn’t remember, and it would be best if you didn’t ask many questions yet. He’s been through a lot and he’ll need time to open up.” Jensen tells the other man, the soldier in him coming forward and filling his voice with steel and undebatable warning as his gaze bores into Sasha.

“Of course. Of course” Sasha says, breaking in to a grin. “Mom said that I always called him “ _Ishi_ ” because I couldn’t say Dmitri OR Misha right” He coughs out a laugh, tears forming in the corners of his eye as he quickly wipes them away.

Jensen can’t help the smile that works his way across his face. He can already see so many similarities between Misha and Sasha that he was no doubt that this will be good for Misha.

“Have you two been together for long?” Sasha asks, blue eyes searching for answers.

“About a year” Jensen answers, dropping his gaze to the floor for just a second before forcing himself to meet Sasha’s hauntingly familiar eyes.

“A year…” The other man trails off as they walk towards the door.

Jensen waves and offers a small smile to Kim, who seems to have deduced that Jensen came to retrieve Sasha. “Look, I know you probably have a million questions. I don’t blame you, I would to. But please, don’t ask Misha what happened to him. This is a lot for him to handle and if you push too hard, you’ll push him away” Jensen stops the other man, grasping his arm tightly and forcing eye contact. Jensen’s firey green eyes demand understanding with a thinly veiled threat.  _Brother or not, if you hurt him; I will kill you._

Sasha nods. “I just want to see my brother”

\---

Misha stands as Jensen re-enters the room, closely trailed by Sasha. The long separated brothers stare at each other for a moment, studying. Misha’s bright blue eyes scan his brother from head to toe, noting their nearly identical eyes and height. Misha’s hair is slightly darker and slightly longer, his face just a fraction rounder but the two could almost pass for twins. He can’t deny that they are related.

“Misha” Sasha breathes out. “I never thought I’d see you again” He nearly cries, his fear of scaring his brother away is the only thing preventing him from wrapping the other man in a crushing hug and holding on for dear life.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember you” Misha says, shaking his head and lowering his gaze in embarrassment. If he was 6, he should have some memories.

“It’s ok. I’m Sasha. Your brother.” Sasha quickly says with a smile, hiding the shattering feeling deep within his chest, his lips draw up to reveal the same gummy smile that Misha has. “I’m just so happy to see you” He takes a step but stops when he sees Misha flinch.

Misha nods, his fingers picking at the leather cuff around his wrist in nervousness. He glances at Jensen, pleading for contact and the green eyed man quickly steps across the room and takes Misha’s hand in his own. Misha takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself as Jensen guides them to the couch.

“Sasha. My name is Dr. Stewart. Misha has been a patient of mine for quite some time. Please. Sit” Dr. Stewart indicates a chair across from both his desk and the couch and Sasha nods his acceptance. “Thank you. Now, I have to ask that we keep this meeting short and simple. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but do try not to rush this. That goes for all three of you.” The doctor continues, meeting eyes with each of the three men in turn. He makes it clear that he is prepared to kick any one of them out at any time if this meeting begins to compromise the progress Misha has made in the last year.

“I hear you go by Misha, instead of Dmitri?” Sasha dares to ask. Asking about a name can’t possibly be off limits, right?

Misha nods his response.

“That’s what Mamma always called you. I’m not sure you even realized that Dmitri was your name” Sasha smiles, thinking about how thrilled their mom is going to be to hear that her son has been found.

“Mamma?” Misha asks, cocking his head to the side in question, the word foreign on his lips.

“Yeah. She, well…when you disappeared, she took it really hard. We never stopped looking for you, but we had no idea what happened. You were there, and then you just, weren’t” Sasha swallows hard, not really wanting to talk about that so soon. He remembers Jensen’s warning and does not want to destroy this chance he has by upsetting his brother. “She’ll be so happy to hear you’re ok” He forces a smile, trying to shift the conversation to a happier mood.

“You were four? Dr. Stewart told me” Misha glances back to the doctor, unsure. Jensen gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah” Sasha nods, catching the warning glare from Jensen and deciding to change the subject. “So, uh, you’ve been living here for a year?” He asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal. He deserves to know, Jensen and the doctor be damned.

Misha nods. “Yes. Jensen brought me here from….where I was” Misha glances up to Jensen, unsure of how much he should say. He doesn’t want to tell his brother everything, but he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to lie.

“You don’t have to tell him anything you don’t want to baby” Jensen says, giving Sasha a silent warning and squeezing Misha’s hand just a little bit tighter. He reaches across with his other hand and places on top of their entwined fingers.

“How did you and Jensen meet?” Sasha asks, hoping that is a safe question. It is obvious how much this green eyed man wants to protect his brother, but he can’t help but feel uneasy with this possessive display.

“Jensen, uh…” Misha starts, unsure of how much he wants to say.

“I was a soldier, almost done with my service. We met aboard a ship and started to fall for each other” Jensen butts in, answering for Misha and forcing a smile. This whole situation is making him nervous.

“A ship?” Sasha asks, widening his eyes. He imagines a large tanker, adrift on the ocean. Was Dmitri, Misha, a sailor?

“Yes. Her name is Athena” Misha smiles brightly, thankful for Jensen’s help.

“Athena? Isn’t that one the main ship of the Alliance’s space fleet?” Sasha asks, eyes wide with surprise as he leans forward in the chair. Images of waves rapidly replaced by the night sky and the swirling dust of dead stars. 

“Yes. I spent most of my life in the outer reaches of the Andromeda galaxy. Jensen brought me home” Misha smiles, proud to consider his life with Jensen as home.

“Wow. No wonder we couldn’t find you” Sasha leans back, slumping in his chair as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Oh my god” Sasha starts, realization dawning as his stomach churns, his blue eyes jumping up to search Misha’s expression for signs of his suspicion. “Slavers” That one word makes his world feel like it’s crashing down around him. He’s heard stories and if even half of them are true, he knows that his brother’s life has been absolute hell. Sasha’s stomach flips again, threatening to dislodge his breakfast. Misha doesn’t say a word but his quick head jerk and wide eyes say more than enough. Jensen is glaring at him like he’s his brother’s own personal attack dog, a fire alit in this green eyes and the cut of his jaw is sharp with how hard his teeth are clenched. The former soldier looks downright murderous, the only thing tethering him is the blue eyed man clinging to his hand. Sasha risks a quick glance at the doctor who has been silently observing and the man’s expression offers him nothing, only a blank mask that could be hiding anything.

“I think that’s enough for one day” Jensen bites out and Misha’s blue eyes slam closed. Jensen’s glare challenges Sasha to say anything more and the man swallows hard.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….” Sasha starts before Jensen cuts in.

“Yeah, well; you did. I’m not going to sit here and watch Misha be torn apart all over again. He’s come too far for that!” Jensen’s voice is full of steel and getting louder by the syllable. Barely bridled anger adds a slight tremor and forces Jensen to his feet. The green eyed man plants himself between his lover and Sasha, determined to shield Misha from this man dredging up memories that are best left alone.

“Jensen please” A soft voice comes from behind Jensen but the man is too engaged in staring down the offending brother to be bothered by it. 

“Jensen. I apologize. I do not want to hurt my brother” Sasha stands, determined to hold his ground despite his hands going up in front of him in a placating gesture.

“Jensen” Misha says again, firm enough this time for the green eyed man to take notice. Misha lays a hesitant hand on Jensen’s shoulder, feeling the firm muscle underneath hard with tension, and tries to tug Jensen back. Jensen stands rooted to the spot and despite his efforts, Misha gives up and steps around Jensen to lock eyes with his brother. “I know, Sasha. It just isn’t something I’m ready to talk about” Misha forces his gaze to be steady, despite the jitter of nerves coursing through him. His stomach drops, sure that he’s disappointed his newly discovered brother. 

Misha has been dreaming about what it might be like to have a family. He’s been accepted into Jensen’s, but that doesn’t stop a pang of jealously in his chest when he sees Jensen and his brother together, or the loving way Jensen and his mother interact. Misha wants to have that, but he’s already ruining it.

Dr. Stewart clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “I believe Jensen is correct. That is enough for one day. 

“It’s ok Misha. You don’t need to tell me everything. Just please, let me see you again. We can’t lose you again” Sasha begs, refusing to accept that he might be forced to leave and not be able to contact his brother. He watches as Misha reaches for Jensen’s hand, forcing the man to take a step back and relax. Sasha watches in amazement how the two interact, how they calm each other just by being close.

“Can I have your phone number?” Misha asks, hesitating like he wants to ask more but can’t seem to form the words.

Sasha nods frantically, patting his pockets for something to write with. He begins to scan the room frantically when he finds nothing. “Yeah, just…I need something write with”

“Here” Dr. Stewart produces a small notebook and pen, sliding it across his desk towards Sasha.

The blue eyed man nearly runs to the desk, he fumbles with the pen in his haste and narrowly avoids sending it clattering to the floor. He quickly scribbles down his number, making sure to write it as clearly as possible. He hesitates for a moment before deciding to write their mother’s phone number as well. Just in case. “Here. I wrote Mom’s number down too. If you want to try to calling her” Sasha holds out the paper towards Misha, his arm trembling with nerves. He’s waited most of his life for this, and he’s half terrified that the moment will slip through his fingers like sand; never to be had again.

“I, uh. Thank you” Misha takes a tentative step forward, reaching for the paper as Jensen studies the other man for any sign of a threat. He stands poised, coiled like a snake and ready to spring at the first sign of distress from his boyfriend. Misha takes the paper but doesn’t retreat. “I’m glad to have met you” Misha forces himself to say, swallowing thickly around the anxiety the words cause him. He reaches out a hand, trying his hardest to hold it steady and watches with wide eyes as his brother wraps their hands together with a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll walk you out Sasha. I think Misha needs to talk to Dr. Stewart for a minute” Jensen says, glancing between his boyfriend and the doctor. At Dr. Stewart’s nod, Jensen draws Misha’s hand up to place a kiss on the back before letting go. For good measure, he lays a sweet kiss on Misha’s cheek and leaves him with a whispered  _I’m proud of you_  as he turns to walk with the newly discovered brother.

Misha smiles weakly, tears building and clouding his vision. He eyes his brother, committing as much of the man as he can to memory. He wants to remember this later, when he feels less like he’s watching everything from the outside. 

“Sasha” Jensen says with a nod, gesturing a hand towards the door. Sasha steps through it without a glance back. Jensen can see the tension in the other man’s shoulders and he wishes there was something he could do to sooth it. Even from the back, this man so closely resembles Misha that Jensen himself feels a connection to the other man.

“So, uh” Jensen stops, clearing his throat. He draws a hand up, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to choose his next words.

“Yeah?” Sasha asks, head tilting slightly when he turns to meet Jensen’s eyes.

“Umm, how long are you in town?” Jensen asks, his voice small and nervous. He doesn’t how Misha will feel about him maybe setting up a plan for the two to meet up again.

“I don’t know. A couple days?. I just bought a ticket on the first plane out when I heard” Sasha says shyly, gesturing a hand towards the closed office door. A blush creeps into his cheeks as he realizes how ridiculous he must sound to this green eyed stranger.

“You don’t have a return flight yet?” Jensen asks, dumbfounded. He can’t imagine dropping everything like to run towards the possibility of news.

Sasha shakes his head, blue eyes studying Jensen’s face like he’s a puzzle that needs to be solved. Maybe he is.

“Uh” Jensen makes a quick decision and his gut twists in fear that Misha will be upset with him for it. “Here’s my number” Jensen scribbles his number down on an old receipt in his pocket. “Call me tomorrow, if Misha doesn’t call you first. I’ll talk to him about meeting up for lunch or something” Jensen says in a rush. Talking to Misha might be easier said than done.

“Thank you” Sasha breathes through a grin. His blue eyes sparkle like Jensen had just hung the moon and any remaining doubts Jensen was feeling evaporate under the sheer weight of the gratefulness in Sasha’s expression. 

\----

Lunch goes well. By the end of it, the two brothers are laughing and joking like they’ve known each other this whole time. Sasha knows better than to ask the questions that Misha can’t answer, and that’s OK. The only thing they argue over is their mother. Misha isn’t ready, Sasha wants to at least be allowed to tell her that her son is alive.

Sasha travels to Austin again a few weeks later. This time he stays with Jensen and Misha. He brings old family videos and the three men cram onto Jensen and Misha’s dark leather couch to watch a tiny Misha running around a living room naked, laughing when he trips and falls on his butt. The baby on the screen grins when a woman scoops him up off the floor and cradles him close, blowing raspberries on his chubby cheeks.

Misha fights back tears at the sight and he wishes with everything he is that he could remember. He looked so happy. His mom looked so happy. He leans into Jensen’s side and the green eyed man wraps his arm tight around him. Jensen wishes Misha could remember to.

Another video appears on the screen.  _A little blue eyed_ _toddler with a mop of dark hair cradles a baby tightly in his lap. The baby sleeps_ _, and two year old Misha looks up into the camera and grins._ _“MY brother” The toddler happily announces to the camera and the gentle laugh of a woman off screen can be heard. The dark haired boy hugs the baby tighter_ _as the woman settles onto the couch next to him._

_“My boys” She says, pulling young Misha into her side and_ _ruffling his hair. Misha’s mom is beautiful and smiling into the camera._

“Mamma” Misha mutters under his breath, his eyes rimmed in red as slightly flashes of long, dark brown hair flutter in the back of his memory. A gentle smile, a whiff of perfume. Baby powder. Misha buries his face in Jensen’s chest as both Sasha and Jensen look at him in surprise. 

Jensen and Sasha share a tentative smile at the sight.

_“_ _Ishi_ _! Wait!” A little boy shouts from the screen and Misha unburies his face to peek. The dark haired toddler is a little bit older_ _, running through the grass holding onto a ki_ _te_ _string. A smaller boy stumbles_ _after him, his features drawn into a scowl._

_The older boy laughs as_ _his_ _brother chases_ _down the hill_ _. “Come on Sasha!” The boy calls through his laughter_ _. The smaller boy trips, trying to run too fast_ _,_ _and he_ _falls onto his hands and knees. His face scrunches as_ _his cheeks redden. A loud burst of tears fill the air as the younger boy be_ _gins to cry._

_The dark haired four year_ _old turns abruptly at the sound his brother’s sobs. He drops the kite string and runs to Sasha_ _, falling to his knees at his brother’s side. “I’m sorry Sasha” He wraps his little arms around the smaller boy’s shoulders and hugs him close_ _._

_“Oh sweetie” their mother’s voice_ _coos, drifting_ _from behind the camera as the frame shifts_ _and jerks. The camera is set down, still recording as grass fills the frame._

_“Kiss better mommy” little Sasha sniffs, tiny shoe entering the frame as he crawls onto his Mom’s lap._

_“_ _Is Sasha ok Mamma?”_ _Young Misha asks, he sounds like he’s near tears;_ _full of concern for his brother._

_“He’s fine baby. Just a scratch”_  Her voice drifts from the screen and Misha closes his eyes against the unwelcome tears. Suddenly laughter fills the room and the scene changes to two little boys jumping up and down in front of a Christmas tree.

_“This one’s yours Sasha!” A slightly older Misha exclaims, thrusting a_ _tiny but_ _garishly_ _red package into his brother’_ _s hands. “What is it?” Misha asks excitedly, peering over his brother’s shoulder as_ _the younger boy unwraps a bright green little race car._

_“C_ _ar!” Sasha yells, grin lighting up the room_ _as he tears at the packaging._

_“Let me help you with that” A man, their Dad, reaches across the screen and takes the car from little Sasha_ _. “Why don’t you find one of yours Dmitri” He suggests and the older boy hurriedly turns back to the tree._

_The car is quickly unwrapped and handed back to Sasha, and it isn’t long until 5 year old Misha returns to the screen clutching a_ _small green box. “Go ahead Son, open it” Their Dad smiles gently at his oldest boy_ _as Misha tears into the paper_ _. The boy’s grin grows at he holds up his prize, a sheriff badge and pop gun_ _._

_“I love it!” Misha grins, showing off a missing front tooth_ _._

_“Come on boys! Time for breakfast!” Their mother calls from somewhere off screen_ _. Both little boys face’s light up with joy and take off running as their father stands to turn off the camera._

_The next scene is a park_ _. The boys are wearing_ _little paper birthday hats and surrounded by other kids. In front of Misha is a birthday cake with six candles lit atop of it._ _“Make a wish Misha!”_ _Their mom calls, sweeping in behind her sons to place a kiss on Misha’s little cheek._

_Misha grins, puffing his cheeks out at as he blows all the candles out. Sasha is the first to start cheering, clapping his chubby little hands together_ _and grinning as wide as his little face allows._

_“What’d you wish for_ _Ish_ _i_ _?” Sasha asks, turning to grin at his big brother._

_“_ _He can’t tell what he_ _wished for, it won’t come true” Their Mom_ _urges, scooping her youngest son into her arms._

_“I wished for this!” Misha announces, jumping up to stand on the picnic bench_ _as the throws his hands up in the air_ _, gesturing at everything around him_ _. The rest of the kids laugh at his_ _exuberance, quickly dispersing as_ _Misha’s mom returns to cut the cake. She grabs her son, tickling his sides until he doubles over with laughter_ _. She picks him up and spins him around_ _, holding him underneath his arms as he laughs joyously without a care in the world._

The scene stops and the screen of the television cuts to snow. “That was two weeks before you disappeared” Sasha says flatly, nearly too quiet to hear. He gets up to remove the DVD, not able to stand watching again. 

Misha scoots away from Jensen, just far enough to wipe at his nose and sniff back the emotion threatening to over come him.

“You ok?” Jensen asks softly, rubbing circles on his boyfriend’s back.

Misha shakes his head silently, unable to trust his voice. A terrible tightness develops in his chest and he forces the sobs down. He shouldn’t be so sad after watching something so happy! Except, he realizes, that those happy moments are long gone. Stolen from him along with a life that he doesn’t remember. They’re nothing but a reminder of the life he should have had. Without a word he shoves to his feet and rushes to the bedroom he shares with Jensen.

“Crap” Jensen mutters, unsure if he should follow or give Misha some space. Sasha grunts his agreement from the opposite end of the couch but doesn’t turn to look at Jensen. Jensen stares through the other man, focusing on a point on the wall behind him without a clue as to what to say. 

Minutes pass, although it could have been hours, and the two men sit in silence. Eventually Jensen can’t take it any more, his concern for his lover outweighing any doubts and insecurities. “I’m gonna go check on him” Jensen presses his mouth into a flat line and gives Sasha a single firm nod when the flash of blue eyes turns to focus on him. He doesn’t wait for a reply, quickly getting to his feet and heading for their room.

Misha hadn’t locked the door. He never does. He’s still terrified of being locked in, he spent too much his life locked away against his will. If he never see’s another lock again it will be too soon. Except, for a brief second when Jensen turns the door knob, Misha wishes he had turned the lock. He rolls over to face his boyfriend, letting his reddened blue eyes seek out the calming green depths that he’s come to love.

“You ok?” Jensen asks, his voice small and fragile as if Misha might actually tell him no. He steps to the bed cautiously, Misha hasn’t moved other than to look at him and Jensen is a little bit afraid that he’ll be pushed away. 

Misha glances down, staring at the swirling patter on the bed spread and picking at a loose thread with his fingers. “I want to remember” He mumbles.

“I know baby” Jensen takes that as his cue to climb to the bed. Misha subtly scoots closer, urging the green eyed man to wrap his arms around him. Jensen does, pulling Misha to his chest and rubbing up and down on his back.

“I want to meet her” Misha mumbles, his voice low and rough with the continued threat of tears. “I want to see my mom” He loses his battle with a sob, clutching at Jensen’s arms and burying his face in the other man’s chest.

“Ok” Jensen agrees, silently promising that he will make it happen. No matter what. Misha has had to suffer too long without being loved, Jensen refuses to let his chance at having a family pass without them at least trying. “Ok” He whispers again, rocking Misha against him.

\---

A week later finds Jensen and Misha stepping off an airplane in California. The flight from Austin was short, but nothing can quiet Misha’s nerves. He’s about to see his Mom for the first time in nearly 25 years. He holds tight to Jensen’s hand as they make their way down the gate and into the terminal. 

Sasha greets them with open arms at the baggage claim, he couldn’t bring himself to wait in the car for his newly found brother and the man he easily considers his brother in law. 

Misha sees Sasha standing excitedly near the baggage carousal, the dark haired man shifting from one foot to the other as the two men slowly make their way towards him. Misha steps away from Jensen and into his brother’s arms for the first time. He wraps his own arms around his brother’s back when he feels Sasha do the same. He smiles to himself as the fluttering nervousness in his stomach begins to quiet, hugging Sasha feels right. It feels familiar despite the fact that Misha didn’t remember the man existed until a few weeks ago.

“You ready?” Sasha asks when Misha draws back. He pats his brother firmly on the shoulder before the man returns to Jensen’s side, leaning into him as the green eyed man wraps his arm around his back.

Misha nods. He’s as ready as he’s ever going to be. Sasha is still grinning like a loon now that Misha finally hugged him, and that smile is infectious enough find its way onto Misha’s own face. He has everything he never thought would be possible.


End file.
